Still Here
by Ooshii Kurai
Summary: When Gohan died, life was supposed to end. But the hybrid quickly finds life is still going on... and he's doomed to watch it pass. AU. Dark Themes. Ref Suicide & Mild Lang.
1. Incendium

**Still Here**

**Disclaimers**: Ho Hum. How should I put this? Dbz, how shall I own thee? Never! Never! Never! Verbal Tear Poetic enough for you?

Alrighty then. I'm going to get out of my formal beginnings that you are all so used to in my other stories. Frankly I'm bored with it, and I am sure you all are too. Hopefully the layout of this new story will be easier to read and more enjoyable too.

With new layout options it kind of makes it hard to see spaces so I'll put between the breaks. Makes it easier on the eyes, I'm sure.

I also promise to work harder on these new generation of stories. Hopefully send them to my beta every chapter. Look over twice. Write outlines. Make it better of everyone, ne?

Enough of my goals and on with the story.

Ah. Before I go, I guess I should explain a few things, right? Well this new story is strictly about Gohan/Goten relationships. Not yaoi… Because that would be sickening. :shiver: But it will circle around that main relationship. If you have any questions with things being out of place in the series, forget them. I am not following the series after the cell games. They aren't going to chase Buu or so on, so don't question it. Just go with me. I'll show you the way. I promise.

Yes. It is bad of me to come up with a new story. But you know me… if you've read my other bazillion stories, I jump at any chance for a new idea. And this is as new as they come.

I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter One**: Incendium 

"Personality is born out of pain. It is the fire shut up in the flint."  
-J.B. Yeats

**I**t hadn't been that long…

It hadn't been long enough.

A helicopter made it's slow decent upon the sloping lawns before the former residence of the acclaimed Martial Arts champion. Champion once. Runner up twice.

The grass waved in and out as the copter's legs struck the earth once again. The hum sung through the air as the propellers of the machine slowed. They swooped overhead the cockpit like deadly blades sliding through the throat.

The machine gleamed a paint of bright yellow against the faded autumn background that was it's season. Slowly the propellers ceased their repetitive pulsing giving signal to the person inside.

They took their time- gathering things up in their arms for the trip. Arms full of empty picnic baskets, checkered cloth, and paper bags- the woman kicked the helicopter's door open allowing it to slam into its opposite side. She slipped casually out into the sunlight, blowing the blue strands out of her face.

Her bright eyes scanned the somewhat less cheery surroundings. She felt out of place here. Like she didn't belong. She admitted, partially, that she didn't. But the woman didn't like dwelling too long on the negative.

'_He _was never like that, you know.' She always thought, 'Things always came out well for _him_. So will they for us.'

Bulma, or formally known as Professor Briefs Bulma, the ingenious inventor of Capsule Corporation, had just made a four hour flight on her fastest vehicle to reach this destination. Dressed in her casual best of blue jeans, white tank, and covered head to toe with picnic supplies, Bulma stumbled up the slope to the cute little cottage.

It didn't take long to reach the kitchen door- friends of the family were always welcomed through this door. Bulma knew this. But she had to hesitate before taking it.

The smell of breakfast, or maybe even lunch, hung in the air. This reminded the inventor, painfully, that she had not had any. She hadn't called ahead… But perhaps there would be some left for her.

With a sayian in the household, she found it highly unlikely.

The kitchen door was opened, exposing only the screen. Bulma could see shapes moving around inside, but the house was too dark to discern much.

_Before_ the kitchen was filled with light.

She thought to knock. Thought little of it. Her hands were filled, and she never had to before.

Again, she hesitated.

'Maybe tomorrow', she thought. 'Maybe in a year or two.'

But in her heart, she knew. As a friend, she knew. They needed this now. They needed reprieve. They needed happiness. They needed escape.

Bulma breathed deeply to calm her emotions. The air had a salty tint to it.

Smelled like rain.

Careful not to cause too much alarm, Bulma pushed the screen open.

Two sets of eyes peered at her from the darkness. It took a couple of minutes for her eyes to adjust, but those eyes were enough to tell her…

She had picked the wrong time for this picnic.

* * *

**G**ohan, the eleven-year-old prodigy, sat vigilantly at the kitchen table. He appeared fully recovered from recent bouts, although it was no surprise. Bulma had helped with her vitamins she had recommended for him. But the Dragon and Karin's sensu beans had done most of work. 

The demi sayian had nearly finished his breakfast. Or rather, knowing him, one of his helpings.

But then again, he appeared not really intent upon eating. To be distracted so easily at Bulma's entrance gave her the impression that Gohan wasn't eating healthily. At least not in Sayian terms.

He still had his dark, strangely cut hair. His large, curious eyes- but some of the brightness seemed gone. She needn't ask why. Everyone had lost some of their brightness. It was no different for Gohan.

But it _was_ different…It was startlingly different.

Gohan broke his gaze from Bulma's to glance wearily at his mother. The woman did not rush to Bulma, like she used to. Instead, she stood eagle-eyed in the upper corner of the kitchen. Watching, with a strange look on her face. A face she often used when she didn't know what emotion to display on her face; a mixed, confused look.

It was then that Bulma realized she had walked in on a fight.

Gohan looked passively between Bulma and his mother. His face remained neutral. A calm lake free from ripples. He had not started the fight. He would not finish it.

Mother had once again been fed up with Gohan's serene attitude. She knew Gohan was hurting inside. Of course she knew. It hurt her that she couldn't see it. It made her think he didn't care. If only she knew how much…

This was how most fights started. At meals. It was the only time they had really seen each other, after _the day_. Gohan studied. Chichi cooked. Each smothering themselves in jobs that preoccupied their minds. At meals, they couldn't focus on eating. So the fights would start.

Gohan was actually glad Bulma arrived. Now he could go up to his room and study in peace.

He didn't have to finish his meal… It tasted bad anyway.

"Umm… I'm sorry." Bulma finally spoke awkwardly, dropping her items on the clean floor.

Gohan noted his mother's flinch. Right on cue.

"I- I thought we might… go picnicking. Like we used to- remember?"

Gohan almost felt sorry for Bulma. She was trying so hard to pull everyone back together. But- then, with Father gone… so was the glue.

The hybrid was actually quite shocked to hear his mother speak,

"Oh Bulma."

Gohan turned his head to his mother, to see her eyes were welling up with tears. She choked on them as they ran down her cheeks,

"Oh sweet wonderful Bulma. I've missed you too!"

Bulma fell back awkwardly as Chichi fell into Bulma's arms weeping. Shocked, Gohan only blinked.

Why didn't she hug him like that?

Gohan glowered quietly with jealously until Bulma was able to pry Chichi off her.

"There, there. It's alright." hushed Bulma.

It worked. Chichi calmed down. Gohan's jealously grew.

* * *

**B**ewildered by Chichi's openness, Bulma felt quite silly for offering to go picnicking. But before Bulma knew it, Chichi had all three picnic baskets in hand. She smiled merrily around the bleak kitchen and nodded to Gohan, 

"Clean your dish, Gohan! Let's not keep Bulma waiting!" Chichi cheered, "Then we get to work on filling these picnic baskets."

Bulma watched the boy curiously as he rose from his chair. He was 'glaring' at her, for some odd reason, it seemed. But the mood shifted in his eyes, and instead, he looked quite ill. Complying with his mother's wishes, Gohan took his dishes to the sink.

Chichi began chattering about past events. Past outings where they had enjoyed each other's company. She was actually starting to insist they invite everyone else too, when Bulma quickly interrupted that they had not made preparations for something like that.

All the while, Bulma watched Gohan. He sulked as he washed his dishes. Worried, Bulma moved towards the boy. Chichi's chattering lessened as she, too, noticed Gohan's dark disposition.

"I could help you, if you want, Gohan."

Gohan did not respond. Not even when both Bulma and Chichi were at his side.

"Gohan? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Gohan spat rather roughly making a hasty slip of the sponge.

There was a brief instant in which everything went too fast to see. Blood ran down his palm and into the soapy waters of the sink. Red. Very red blood.

The knife he was scrubbing cut a clean line across his hand. Bulma was actually quite surprised at the fragility of his skin. So surprised she didn't realize how severely he had cut himself.

The knife fell- bloodstained and soapy, onto the kitchen counter. Gohan pulled back in pain,

"Dammit!"

"Gohan! Watch your language!" Chichi scolded, quickly taking his hand in her own, "Oh sweetheart. Here. Wash off the blood…"

"Let go! It hurts!" Gohan cried as Chichi attempted to clean the wound under the warm water, "Mother!"

Bulma stared at the knife curiously, and then- artfully pocketed the item. She turned her gaze back up just as Gohan yanked himself free of his mother.

"Gohan. I have to clean it. Otherwise it will get infected." Chichi reproached logically.

Gohan still pulled away, keeping his injured hand out of her reach.

"Gohan! This is ridiculous! Give me your hand now!" Chichi raged, "Or I'll- Or you're grounded."

"Fine." Gohan retorted, "I didn't want to go on the stupid picnic anyway."

The boy turned sharply, dancing out of his mother's reach, and ran off into his room. A door's slam echoed down the hall causing both mother and friend to flinch.

"Teenagers." Bulma shrugged, "He'll get over it…Chi?"

Chichi closed her eyes as tears tried squeezing out.

"No. And it was looking to be a good afternoon."

"Don't worry about it, Chichi." Bulma encouraged, touching the woman's shoulder, "It can still be a good day. Give Gohan his space. He needs time alone, but you need sunlight. Let's go have a good picnic back at Capsule Corp."

Chichi hesitated, but a smile swept her features,

"Alright."

* * *

**"D**id you douse the fire?" 

"What are you, Smokey the Bear now? Yes! I did."

"Geez. Just asking. pause You're a pain when you're drunk."

"Just drive. We've got a long ways to home."

A single cigarette tumbled out of the passing car as it drove down the abandoned wood. The leaves began to smolder…

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Do what?"

"That. Throwing lit cigarettes out. Those things aren't cheap. sigh One of these days you'll start a fire that way."

"Whatever. Keep driving."

* * *

**V**egeta glared down upon the children's book irately. _Stupid fairy tales._

And he was supposed to read them to Trunks?

_Like the kid understood._

"Humpty Dumpty… err… fell. All the King's men… couldn't put him back together again." Vegeta grumbled.

He paused, looking about for the 'woman' before uttering,

"Damn stupid story."

Giggles resounded from the baby chair the lilac topped baby was strapped into. As Trunks giggled a small bit of drool wound down his chin, bringing disgust to the Sayian Prince's face.

"Just because you can't read, dear, doesn't mean you have to take it out on Humpty Dumpty." Bulma snapped, reappearing from the living room with Chichi close at hand.

Vegeta turned- diverting his gaze from Trunks' drool. His eyes fell on Chichi.

"Kakarot's mate." Vegeta jeered, "Why didn't your force your brat to come? I wanted to train against him. He's been avoiding me!"

"With good reason." Chichi spat, retaining some of her old flare.

"Gohan wasn't feeling well, Vegeta." Bulma muttered darkly, "It's best you didn't pester him about training."

"Boy's gonna be out of shape."

"It's only been two weeks!" Bulma riposted, loosing her temper, "Have some respect, will you?"

"Yes. But those are two weeks that Kakarot would have used." hissed Vegeta.

Bulma tried but failed to retort to that. Smirking, Vegeta scooped up his son in one arm, the book in his other- and left the room. Bulma glared wrathfully after her husband's turned back.

"Argh. Men." Bulma snorted.

"It's alright, Bulma." Chichi smiled softly, taking her friend by the arm, "Vegeta's just worried about Gohan's health. Just like me. Right?"

Bulma hesitated, but then nodded.

"Right. We're all worried."

* * *

Gohan stared idly down at his palm. The blood had dried leaving an odd sort of patch about the wound. Transfixed, Gohan touched and then cringed as pain surged from it. 

How had he been able to cut himself?

Hastily, Gohan wrapped the bandages back about his hands. Mother had left with Bulma. He was still a bit sore that she _had_ left him. But then he'd spoken truthfully. He didn't want to go on a picnic. He'd rather die then go. But then he'd rather die then do a lot of things lately.

Shaking the thought from his head, Gohan set back to studying. He had to make it up to Mother somehow. This was the only way he knew. And the only way he dared to try.

3. The sum of an objects internal kinetic and potential energies is…

It had only been two weeks really. His arm still burned where it had been detached and mangled. Like the healed arm was a ghost of the former thing it used to be. The wounds did not heal. Gohan felt as if they wouldn't ever.

He tried talking to Piccolo about it, but the Namekian often wasn't one for much sympathy. Gohan knew he meant well, but Piccolo wasn't the best person to complain to. Even with Kami as a better half.

15. Estimate the x coordinates at which the relative maxima and relative minima occur…

The dreams were getting worse, really. At first they were just dreams in which Father was there. Alive again. Smiling that dumb grin of his. But as soon as Gohan woke, he would quickly find the face escaping him. He would have to relive his father's absence everyday. Relive the knowledge that he was slowly forgetting his father's face. Father's voice.

But lately the dreams were different ones. Where the pain struck when he was sleeping. Often making him scream.

17. Witty language used to convey insults or scorn, Polarity, Satire, Paradox, Wisecrack

How much longer could he take this? How much longer could Father be gone?

30. Fire is to Water as Immortality is to-

The lights flickered. Gohan glanced up; shutting his test booklet. He wasn't even halfway through. The answers seemed to be escaping him of late. And distractions didn't help…

_Now why did they do that?_

They flickered again, growing on Gohan's nerves. The sayian rose from his chair, and moved cautiously to his door. The door handle was strangely warm. Gohan's heart skipped a beat. He knew the signs…but-

_What's going on?_

Keeping up his guard, Gohan unlocked his door, and moved out into the hallway. Heat wrapped his body and face painfully as he stepped out. His arm burned worse then ever. Gohan could hardly breathe.

Smoke hung over the whole house in thick clouds. Gohan couldn't see. In fact, it hurt to try…

His heart was hammering. How long had he not noticed the fire?

Rushing to the kitchen, Gohan spotted the flames. They were coming from the outside. From the trees.

Forest fire… 

_I have time to get out. _Gohan thought quickly to himself, _I just have to grab a few things…_

The flames were growing. Gohan watched them. Gohan saw it all. He held his breath and moved closer to the wall.

Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he pry himself away?

The flames. They were beautiful.

_They _are_ beautiful._

The family picture sat on the sill, illuminated in the bright of the fire. It looked as if the flames were dancing all around it. Not touching it. Not daring too.

Gohan couldn't drag himself away. Not while his father's eyes were upon him. Not while the flames danced. He watched them, reflecting their ballet in his dark eyes, as if desiring to join them. He moved, quietly, removing his bandage.

The wrapping fell silently into his other hand, and carefully the boy pulled it over his mouth. A filter from the smoke.

But Gohan was already intoxicated.

Charily, he wandered to the windowsill. Flames licked out at him. Beckoning him to them. Gohan flinched at the sharp fists that bit at his clothing and flesh.

They were growing. Gohan was not moving any faster.

Gohan groped the picture frame in both hands- just as suddenly dropped it.

_It was hot. _

The glass shattered- falling about him. The images got eaten away. The memories. Goku disappeared last.

"Father." Gohan whimpered.

The hissing sound caught Gohan's attention. He turned- eyes wide.

The flames were bigger then him. Towering over him menacingly. Cell's face loomed down at him through the flames. Through hell.

Gohan screamed and fell back into the wall. He covered his face desperately trying to rid of Cell's gaze. The insect. The monster.

His instincts told him to get out. But Gohan didn't want to listen.

The demi sayian looked up, eyes flaring a dangerous blue. He could see the events flashing again.

Cell, a luminous balloon, against the dreary backdrop of the crumbling planet. His evil smile from purple lips. Inhuman qualities that made him different and deadly. Qualities that made him evil.

Gohan could see his father's face. So reassuring. Shrouded in flames.

"I'm proud of you, Gohan."

_Proud of a murderer?_

Index and middle tapped his temple and Goku was gone. Forever and for good.

There was a time when Gohan could not understand the point of his father's battles. The point of beating upon another person until they proved incapable of receiving the pain anymore. But now Gohan knew. It was for the thrill… and that fact terrified him.

Held up in the moment- he was mistaken. And that mistake cost him so much more then when he was a coward.

It seemed he couldn't do anything right. Cowardly or heroically.

Gohan could see so clearly the fate that awaited him. The fate he escaped and bestowed on another… The fate remained his own…still.

_Villains always lose. It's time I face that. Because- Because I'm one too… I killed my own father- and I- I can't-_

"I'm not running this time."

Everything went white, like a flare going off.

He went blind. Then numb.

Then… Then there was nothing.

* * *

**V**egeta froze… halfway up the stairs. Perched between two steps, he faltered- a most peculiar look on his face. His skin was burning up in down like sweeps from a tide. As if a sudden fever struck him. 

"No way."

Trunks was frowning up at him, eyes coated over with a distance sense of wisdom. A sort of claim to babyish intelligence. The corners of Trunks' mouth twitched slightly as he nestled himself deeper into his father's chest. Vegeta remained unresponsive.

The book that the Sayian Prince had carried in the hook of his other arm- fell. It dully clunked down the staircase until it smashed into the opposite wall. There it fell opened to the last page…

Broken egg shells.

"Mr. Briefs?" A meek voice called, "Sir? Did you drop- this?"

A balding man wearing the palpable uniform of steel blue and white, that Capsule Corp employees often wore, sauntered up the stairs towards the shorter sayian. He kept the book out before him; carefully shutting it before holding it out to Vegeta.

Vegeta turned-without even looking at the Capsule employee. His eyes blinking strangely as if holding something back. Vegeta made his way back down the staircase, bobbing slightly with each step he took. The employee flinched at the unnerving clanking that Vegeta's shoes made when in contact with the metal steps.

Clank. Clank. Clank…

Vegeta paused before the worker, eyes boring holes through flesh, and handed Trunks to him. The child gave a docile cry in protest but was quickly hushed by the look on his father's face.

The employee looked taken aback; as if uncertain how to care for a child. He struggled briefly as he attempted to hold the babe in a comfortable position.

"Sir?" He gulped, as soon as he had situated the infant properly in his arms.

"Take him to Bulma. Ms. Briefs." He added, "Tell her… I'll be back."

"Err… Yes, sure." He nodded submissively, "When _will _you be back? If I may ask… sir?"

"Later." Vegeta frowned.

The Prince continued down the stairs, leaving the hired hand alone with the lilac topped hybrid. Trunks reached out his tiny hand to his father's retreating back. The fingers wiggled helplessly before the palm unable to cling onto anything but air.

"Tou!" He cried, "Tou! Tou!"

* * *

**  
**

**B**ulma grinned as she adjusted her rear view mirror to get a better view of her best friend in the back seat. She was filled with good cheer; smiling giddily back at the blue haired pilot.

Bulma had nearly prepared for their trip back to the Son residence. Although Bulma greatly desired Chichi to remain longer, she knew Gohan had to be tended to. Despite his newly obtained gloom-and-doom attributes, she knew in her heart Gohan was a great kid. Chichi and Gohan would both drive over this hole in their lives safely-

_And damn Goku if they don't, _Bulma thought darkly to herself.

Bulma glanced up to spot Vegeta trudging across the lawns in front of the helicopter. He appeared in an apparent rush. Curious, she apologized to Chichi, and climbed out of the helicopter.

"Vegeta? Wassup?" called Bulma.

Noticing Trunks was not in his arms, she added charily, "Where's Trunks?"

"I gave him to an employee of yours." Vegeta grunted, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm taking Chichi back home." Bulma huffed in disapproval, "And you need to stop handing our son off to people, Vegeta. You don't even know who you are giving him to!"

Vegeta ignored his mate's last comment and instead took in the first one for consideration. His ebony eyes shot over to the yellow helicopter parked only a few feet away, where Chichi's peaky face peered out at him from its tinted windows.

Frowning, Vegeta murmured to himself, "That's right. You brought her over earlier."

"Yes." Bulma snorted, "Earth to Vegeta. We ate lunch together, remember?"

Vegeta's frown deepened. Fighting the urge to rush off again, he considered the woman inside the aircraft.

"Is something wrong, Vegeta?" Bulma asked with a bit more concern.

"I'll take Chichi. It will be much faster flying." Vegeta spoke rashly.

"Uh. Why-?" Bulma sputtered, "…_You called her Chichi_?"

Vegeta didn't answer. Instead he ambled over to the aircraft, and pulled open the door. Chichi, startled, did not move at first. But slowly she undid her seat belt to see what the Sayian Prince wanted. The mother-like figure crept towards the opening and out into the lawn before him. She looked puzzled- glancing back and forth between Bulma and the Sayian. Vegeta's face remained neutral.

"What's wrong?" Chichi inquired innocently.

"Vegeta?" asked Bulma carefully as she gripped his arm.

Vegeta sighed. _Stupid nosy women._ But then again- he knew, oddly, that Bulma would find out anyway.

"A few minutes ago, Gohan's ki heightened and then disappeared."

Chichi stiffened a horrified gasp, and fell back against the cold metal of Bulma's helicopter. Her hands were shaking, but she kept her hard gaze on Vegeta's.

"What does that mean?" questioned Bulma; taking the words right out of Chichi's mouth.

"I'm not sure." Vegeta spat indifferently, "Nothing good, I guess."

Chichi didn't like that answer. She closed her eyes hard, hoping the room would stop spinning.

_Gohan wasn't _dead_, was he?_

_Typical that this would happen just as Chichi was feeling better about herself._ Bulma glowered.

"I don't understand this whole ki sense thing, but a disappearing ki signature… Could that mean a number of things? Besides Gohan being…" Bulma trailed off, mindful of Chichi.

"Yes. It could mean that someone is suppressing his ki. Or he's suppressing it himself."

"What about sleeping? Could it mean he's asleep-?" Bulma interposed.

"Woman! Do you think I would be making this big of a deal if there was a chance he was just sleeping?!" Vegeta bellowed, just increasing Bulma's own anger.

"Well, I don't know!" Bulma snapped, "You never taught me about this stupid ki sensing thing before!"

Vegeta mellowed down, glancing between the two women. He really didn't feel like explaining, but he figured he'd have to before they got anywhere. Bulma loved making things difficult this way.

"A Ki signature is like a person's internal energy supply. What a person's capable of, his emotions, and his alignment are all formed in this energy. Everyone has one. Only few know its there and how to tap into it. A ki level can't be lowered simply by going to sleep. In fact it would probably increase because energy is being restored not detracted in that amount of time. The only way that energy can be gone is if the person is incapable of living anymore. That is when it's gone."

Vegeta felt drained. He hated having to explain things to people, especially when they needed to hurry. Chichi and Bulma both just gave Vegeta biddable stares. He sighed miserably,

"I am sure… That 'that' is not the case for Gohan."

"But we should still check it out, right?" Bulma suggested, "I mean, disappearing ki is uncommon, right? So we should check to make sure it's not a new evil."

Vegeta looked doubtful but he nodded. Determined, Bulma whirled back around to face Chichi,

"Come on. We have to go back to your home now- You heard Vegeta."

Chichi's pallid face flushed before she lowered her head. In a modest voice she whispered,

"If anything's happened to Gohan…I-I don't think I could ever forgive myself."

"What's that now?" Bulma murmured, moving closer to the distraught woman, "It's not _your_ fault."

"We don't have time for this." Vegeta barked, losing patients, "I told you what was going on, so now we need to go. Woman…Err… Kakarot's mate- Jump on my back."

"Excuse me?" Bulma grumbled cocking an eyebrow.

Vegeta blushed a bright red, and added mildly,

"I'll just carry you then."

"Yes. Much better. I get the back, thank you very much." Bulma snorted.

* * *

**P**iccolo was there before they had arrived. 

He looked very foreboding before the bleak desolation around him. There was no Son residence to return to. There were only flames that quickly diminished before the mighty gusts of the incoming storm.

Rain was pounding down on them when they had landed. Chichi was in hysteria- so far that Vegeta had trouble getting her off him. Had he been a normal man she might have broken his arm.

Bulma slipped silently off Vegeta's back, glancing about the forest clearing. All the woods around them were scorched. But she could see no source to the fire… and it seemed that it stopped in this clearing.

"What happened?" Vegeta demanded from the Namek-jin.

Piccolo, despite his great hatred for the frying pan crazed female, could not remove the pity from his eyes. Vegeta barely heard it's answer,

"A fire."

"I figured that." Vegeta snarled, "What happened to Gohan? Did you get him out?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

Vegeta groaned in annoyance. The stupid 'plant' never gave straight answers. Never more then was directly asked of him. Glancing back at the ruined house, he snapped,

"So where is Gohan now?"

Piccolo didn't answer. He just looked wearily over at Chichi again.

"Did you search for him?"

A nod.

"Did you find him?"

No answer.

"Did you find him, dammit?!" Vegeta spat grabbing the green man by his tunic, and shaking him roughly, "I asked you a question- now answer me!"

"Let go," Piccolo glared demonically, "and you'll get your precious answer from me."

Vegeta hesitated- but complied with to Piccolo's demand.

Piccolo frowned and then spoke again,

"No. I have not found him, but then again I have not been here long."

"What's with the damn silent treatment, then?" Vegeta snarled.

"I'd rather not say," Piccolo growled deeply, "what I assume happened here."

Feeling further bantering with the Namek-jin was pointless, Vegeta turned back to the two woman he had carried over with him.

"Bulma?"

Bulma tried not to be surprised that he used her name, and instead pondered out the scenario in her head. Letting off a visible shiver- she looked weakly about her surroundings,

"Well, there are definite signs of a fire. But how could a fire harm a sayian?"

Vegeta was about to reply when Piccolo interceded,

"There was an explosion. From the inside. One of great magnitude. Almost… ki made."

"That's impossible." Vegeta grunted, "Even so, that shouldn't have killed Gohan. You… You can't kill yourself with by your own ki. It's physically impossible."

"Impractical. Not impossible." Bulma noted, "Just like one might turn a exerted force back upon its user, so could you turn the ki back upon its maker."

"Maybe… it was a gas explosion." a small voice negotiated to the side.

Everyone's head turned to face Chichi, hugging herself close as she spoke,

"Perhaps I left something on- inside… that caused the explosion."

"Assuming that that's possible," Vegeta frowned, "how could 'that' kill a Sayian?"

"Maybe he was sleeping!" suggested Bulma.

"Again with the sleeping thing, huh?" Vegeta groaned.

"Well, a human is definitely more vulnerable when asleep." Bulma speculated quietly, "I am sure that's the same with a sayian too."

Although Vegeta doubted greatly on the hearsay, he nodded. Bulma seemed mostly satisfied.

"So Gohan was just asleep. Meaning he should still be okay. We just have to find him and then get him a sensu." Bulma beamed cheerfully, "No harm done, right?"

Chichi sniffed quietly from her huddled position on the ground.

Piccolo refused to make eye contact.

Even Vegeta looked a bit sheepish.

"Right…" Bulma repeated dully to herself.

* * *

**T**here had been no pain to accompany the light. Perhaps that was why Gohan barely remembered passing out. Rain was falling. Wind was blowing… But strangely, Gohan felt indifferent to it all. 

To the sound of the rain pelting on the ground about him. To the smell. To the taste. To the touch. As if it were traveling through him… but that, of course, was impossible.

Gohan raised his head slightly, seeing nothing but strange misguided shapes. There was tenuous ringing in his left ear -the side he had fallen on. Gohan ignored it at first until it slowly became louder… until it formed words.

It was like an unspoken song. In words long dead. Sung in a sort of drone that would give little children the shivers. A tone that gave Gohan the shivers. As Gohan tried to stand, the song grew louder and louder.

When the singing transformed into shrieking curses, Gohan was pulled to the earth again. The pain building up in his ears was incredible. He rolled back and forth on the earth, trying to rid of the voices…but failed. Helpless as a infant, Gohan curled himself up into a ball and cried. His ears felt like they were being stabbed by white hot daggers. Over and over. The screams became less coherent. And his pain before more and more defined.

Gohan knew… He would soon cease to exist. Had he died twice? Is this what it felt like to die again? For the final time?

He could not see, not hear, or feel. Like a empty torso, with no soul. But yet here he was, being tortured in the knowledge of this. Agony seared his body numb. Hurt became his only thought.

Blood sprayed the ground in which he used to lay. Flames encased his form, flashing their hues into his discolored skin. Sweat shamed his forehead as heat from an internal struggle.

He flayed and thrashed about- unable to dream of being free. Unable to think. Unable to breathe. One thought became clearer, above all the rest,

"_Stop it!_" Gohan screeched.

The pain stopped abruptly. Gohan blinked back his tears in disorientation and saw.

A black outlined shape appeared in from of him. Almost like a ball…crumbled on the floor. It shuddered and whimpered in a disgruntling manner- in almost the same fashion that Gohan had earlier. But the pain that this shadow was sheathed in was not physical. It was- emotional. It was crying.

Gohan could not console it. Nor did he have the energy to. Instead he watched, listlessly, as it faced it's own hell.

A light slowly fought to shine dimly within it. It was a soft light. A beautiful light. Like- like fire.

Brokenly, Gohan reached up to the light- his hand groping for something solid. And surprisingly, something- someone formed a hand and held him tight. Gohan blinked and fell back down into the darkness. His hand still clenched in the glow…

* * *

The group shuttled back and forth through the remains of Gohan's bedroom. But Vegeta fell back, discouraged. 

_What was that human expression? Ah yes, like searching for a _pitchfork_ in a haystack. _Vegeta thought bitterly. _I never understood that dumb saying. Well, this search seems useless. Maybe there is nothing left of the boy…_

Vegeta spotted something not to far off to his right side. Like a glint, from glass. Interested, Vegeta wandered over to the spot finding a strange amount of glass shards.

_That's funny for the glass to be inside the desolated area. If there had been an explosion wouldn't the window's glass been blown away from the site?_

Curiosity getting the better of the monkey, Vegeta shifted further through the rumble before coming across something soft. Pulling the planks away from it, he found his worst fear.

It was Gohan.

The rain pelted harder on Gohan's haggard form. The blood streamed down his forehead in lucid crimson rivers. The boy's eyes were shut. His mouth was closed. He looked asleep. Vegeta knew better.

He felt for a pulse. Waited. And then rose apathetically to face the other members of the search party.

Vegeta's face was riddled with shadow and rain. The others, inquisitive, turned towards the prince respectively. The first time in years, Vegeta had an audience of helpless onlookers. He felt broken…

"Gohan's dead."

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please R + R!

And then come the "WHAT?!!!"s. Yes. I killed Gohan. So there. Yes. I'm mean. Yes. I'm heartless. It's a story for gosh sakes! It's not like I really killed him. :glares: Well… Yeah. I do feel bad… Kind of. Sorry.

But hey, if you read this story, you should have been able to tell from the summery Gohan died… If you're upset then why'd you read it then?

Alright! This would be the spot where I would do review responses… But look at that… I don't have any! Well duh! It's a new story! So I'll just randomly banter on and annoy all the readers till they review for me.

Okay. Here's your homework assignment. REVIEW! Please oh please review.

I know beggars shouldn't be choosers, but if you review could you possibly not write a review like this.

Example 1:

"Love it. Update soon."

What does that tell me? That you loved it. Alright. And you want me to update. Okay… Is that it? Ummm. I guess so. So really you love it and you want it updated. What part of that is suppose to inspire me to update:silence:

Right! None of it!

Example 2:

"Hate it."

Alrighty then. Hate you too. If you wanna tell me it's bad, give examples. Although you may make me cry my poor little heart out, it's much better then a pointless review that just tells me you don't like it. Oh and you **better** make sure your reasons are legitimate. I don't take crud like "Vegeta wasn't in it enough." Or "You killed Goku!"

Sure. I do reviews like that all the time… doesn't make it right! .

Last but not least… In your review could you talk about _my_ story? Could you not post song lyrics or other random prattle that I can't even understand why you are wasting my time and your time with? Unless the song sounds like my story and you want me to see, please… PLEASE… don't review it.

And for your humor:

Example 3:

":)"

Uh. Okay. Well, at least the reviewer's smiling right?

I'll let you go now. Hope you like my newest story! Stay tuned for the next chapter!

Special Thanks to **Astrozazel** for her wonderful editing skills that helped make this chapter more readable for you people. Heaven knows, I can't do it alone. ;


	2. Shojin

**Still Here**

**Disclaimers**: Ho Hum. How should I put this? Dbz, how shall I own thee? Never! Never! Never! Verbal Tear Poetic enough for you?

Alright. Already we are on to Chapter Two. Perhaps the fastest I have ever gone onto another chapter… ever. I guess I like you people. :insert smiley face:

:insert smiley face: Many of you may ask, what did Incendium mean? Well, if you don't know Latin then you wouldn't know. It means fire quite bluntly. I'll probably use foreign words for each chapter title. Depends on my mood. :insert smiley face:

If you want to get an idea of where this story may be going I suggest you listen to the song 'The Reason' by Hoobastank or 'I'm Still Here' from the Treasure Planet CD. Those songs inspired this story. Course I'm Still Here didn't inspire the title though. It's rather a line spoken often through the story, but I guess you could say the song helped.

Enjoy and please review when you are done!

LAST TIME ON STILL HERE  
"I- I thought we might… go picnicking. Like we used to- remember?"  
The knife fell- bloodstained and soapy, onto the kitchen counter.  
"I wish you wouldn't do that."  
_Villains always lose. It's time I face that. Because- Because I'm one too…_  
"What happened?"  
"A fire."  
His hand still clenched in the glow…  
"Gohan's dead."

* * *

**  
Chapter Two**: Shojin 

"One of the many lessons that one learns in prison is, that things are what they are and will be what they will be."  
-Oscar Wilde

**V**egeta waited for the silence to break with a gasp or scream of some kind. There was none. Like little breaks in the rain drops, they stared. Emotionless creatures of the night.

Piccolo awoke from the stupor first. He gave his head a little toss before muttering his nonsense language under his breath. Perhaps a prayer of some kind. Knowing him- a Namekjin curse word.

He frowned- his fists twitching in an abnormal manner. Then the Namekjin turned and started off to the woods. Nobody stopped him. Nobody dared.

Vegeta had studied the Namekjin's expression; haunted by it many years in the future. It was a face full of utter failure. One who had lost all reason or purpose in life. But it was also- a face that knew something. Something hurtful. Piccolo couldn't and wouldn't intervene.

In a sense- that night where he walked into those dark woods, he walked out of all existence. Vegeta watched him go- knowing this. And Vegeta never followed, even years later, knowing this.

He had reason the believe the tale ended there for the Namekjin.

Bulma was suddenly looking desperate. Vegeta missed her acknowledgement of what he had declared, but she was clearly aware now.

Her bright eyes shot back and forth between Chichi and Vegeta, clutching her arms about her chest abnormally. As if she were restraining herself. She wouldn't look at the body, Vegeta noticed. Her eyes were as up as they could go without being down.

Through the curtain of rain, she looked slightly green. She moved awkwardly off to the side, holding herself. Vegeta moved back just in time.

Bulma threw up.

Taking in everyone else's reactions, Vegeta assumed Chichi's to be overblown. He half expect the demon spawn to start swinging her damn frying pan about at everyone and everything. Expected tears. Expected insanity. Something like the hysterics she had shown when they had first arrived here.

But Vegeta found nothing of the sort in the woman's facade. She looked nearly as dead as her son. Vegeta almost was tempted to check her pulse too.

Finally- Chichi moved. She walked forward calmly towards Vegeta, staring down at Gohan's body. Once directly beside the man, she glanced in his direction before lifting some of the boards off her son's corpse.

Vegeta thought to protest but found his body unresponsive. Instead he stepped back- not so far as to bump Bulma, but just so Chichi got all the room she desired.

Chichi, with remarkable strength for one of her stature, lifted the boy into her arms. His head hung awkwardly back- so much that his mouth opened slightly. Her eyes were dark and unreal.

Vegeta found nothing to say to her.

"Vegeta." Bulma's weak voice came behind him, "The dragon balls…"

Vegeta blinked. _But- Of course…_

Chichi nodded, but showed no sign of relief. Instead she situated Gohan more comfortably in her arms, and walked over to the Sayian.

"You can take Gohan to the lookout, can't you? Until- Until we summon the dragon, right?"

* * *

**I**t was obnoxiously cold. 

Gohan batted his arms feverishly in his half sleep- half wake of a trance. He couldn't generate any heat to warm himself. Like he was inside a freezer.

He never remembered ever being so cold.

Weak with still remaining sores, Gohan rose awkwardly to his feet. He wavered- a sense of prolonged injury keeping his legs constantly trembling. Half healed from whatever event had occurred to leave him here.

Here- This ruin in which he created.

He nearly panicked at first, assuming his mother was still around. Searching franticly with just his eyes for her body- but resolve drew him back into calm. Mom was with Bulma. She wasn't home.

That meant she was safe- and he was to get a hiding. Gohan winced slightly at the thought. He'd broken dishes, the dinner table, book bindings, the TV, and once even Babba's Crystal Ball. But he had never broken the house before. This one certainly took the cake. He could only hope that later- he could get a laugh out of it like he did the others.

The demi sayian glanced around him for someway to start. Maybe- if he hurried, he could piece some of the house back together. Illogical but it was something to keep Gohan from completely accepting his punishment.

_I guess I could always pull the "At least I'm still alive, mom" act. _

The shadows stirred from the sideline of the destruction. Gohan's heart skipped a beat. He waited- and heard hushed voices speaking. One was husky male voice… the other was the high tone of his mother. His mother- mom! She was already home!

Panicking, Gohan looked for a place to hide. There wasn't much to chose from. The place was practically desolate.

Well- there's the uprooted floor board, or what's left of the refrigerator…

Helpless, Gohan froze. He held his breath as they continued to walk solemnly towards him. Or rather, Gohan found, he was the one doing the walking.

Slowly their forms became clearer through the fallen rain… He stopped, despondently before them. Waiting, tentatively for a response.

There was a silence and then an answer-

"No."

* * *

**  
C**hichi blinked incredulously at the Sayian before her. Her bewilderment quickly transformed into that of anger, 

"Why not? I don't think you've got anything 'better' to do."

"It's just that-" Vegeta continued undaunted, "Why would that Namekjin walk away like that? Just- like that?"

"I don't know." Chichi shrugged irately, "I don't know half the things that go on in _alien_ minds."

"Maybe he forgot, Vegeta." Bulma offered kindly, "Gohan _was_ close to him, after all."

"Perhaps." Vegeta agreed, "But that doesn't feel like the right answer."

"You're right." Bulma muttered half heartedly, "It doesn't."

"Wouldn't the plant come up with that solution? He created the earth dragon balls at one point of time, right?"

"Yes." Chichi grunted, as if daring him to continue.

"I would hope he wouldn't forget that easily."

"But Vege- Could you cut Piccolo some slack? I mean, this was a devastating blow…" Bulma added after glancing towards Chichi, "For all of us."

"Vegeta thinks-" Chichi muttered lowering Gohan's body carefully to the ground, "that it shouldn't be a devastating blow. With- the dragon balls."

There was a deadening calm…

"Is that true?"

"-No. I don't think he forgot. I think he ruled it out." continued Vegeta as if he had not heard them, "I think that Namekjin knows Shenron can not bring Gohan back."

"Why wouldn't he do that?" Bulma cried, leaned forward, "What happened to the Dragon Balls?"

"Nothing. I don't think anything happened to them." Vegeta frowned, "But- didn't that green plant's other half say once, that the dragon balls could only resurrect people who died from unnatural causes?"

The sayian's eyes were blank. As if frozen in the rain.

Bulma looked doubtful- but nodded. Chichi looked absolutely deadly,

"Just what are you saying, Vegeta?" Chichi snapped cruelly, "That my son blowing up is natural?"

"No. I'm saying… Suicide may be a natural cause."

* * *

**H**e was never looked at through their entire conversation. Nor did Gohan expect them too. He figured out all to fast what happened. As soon as he had set eyes on his mother- and the body slack in her arms. 

_"Suicide? Me?"_

The two didn't seem to fit together, but apparently they did. As easily as 'me' fit with 'death'.

_It _is_ me…_

He looked awful. He looked- dead.

Gohan could not doubt that fact. The corpse was evidently proof.

The demi sayian stood, with his hands pinned to his side, resolutely before his mother- a look of inane despair on his face.

_How can mom stand to hold me? _Gohan mused sadly, _I must be killing her. _

His blood was dripping quietly over his mother's soft hands. Or rather it's blood since he hadn't blood any longer. The woman held death in it's purest form. The smell was potent, even if Gohan ceased to have a nose any longer. She clung so tightly to his body, that Gohan could almost feel it- her embrace, as he was now.

As a ghost he remained in his loose green and white sleeved jacket. His dark jeans kempt neatly to his ankles. His children sized tennis still over his small feet. But dead, his jacket was left askew revealing the black undershirt. The jeans were shredded- one almost as far as the kneecap. And then of course, he was missing one shoe.

_How different we are. And yet, how the same. _

Gohan closed his eyes.

He couldn't look at himself anymore. It disgusted him. But yet- somehow less then it ever had before.

_"What am I? Am I a ghost? But- But how can that be?"_

He looked down, quietly at his opened palm. The wound was gone. In fact, everything- every pain he had ever felt, and every scar was gone too. But he didn't 'feel' transparent. When he looked at himself he found nothing truly different about his appearance. He didn't feel weightless either, although he might have been. In fact- he felt fine.

Reaching up above his head, Gohan groped the air for some kind of halo or something. His hand touched nothing. Not even the air. He even looked up, past the rain- to search, and saw none.

_But- Dad said… when you die you get a halo. Why don't I have one?_

Resting on the floor of what was left of his house, Gohan pondered it.

_Actually- dad also said that you arrive at the 'Check-In' station. That place where you stand in line and wait to be judged for your life…By that big Ogre, King Yema. Why- Why am I not there?_

Gohan leaned back on his hands, feeling no grate of the earth beneath him. He watched curiously as the rain fell on his body but then rather, through him. Had he not been looking for it, Gohan would have missed it entirely. The split second in which the rain drop hesitated before falling past him.

The hesitation that had become him.

_Why haven't I passed on? I didn't think I had any regrets…_

Feeling grave, Gohan stretched out on the wet earth looking skyward. Looking for a sign of a divine verdict. He found nothing but a gray clouded sky. Like always.

Where is the Other World?

_Why am I still here?_

* * *

**  
"H**ow could you say that?" Bulma shouted angrily, "How could you say- that… in front of Chichi?" 

Chichi turned, quite suddenly- her vision blurry with tears,

"Then you think so, too?"

Bulma hushed immediately, giving Chichi a soft look. Chichi threw it away in revulsion,

"Gohan did NOT commit suicide."

"I think he did." Vegeta hissed, "He went into the direct source of the flames. He released the right amount of energy for the explosion. And he- And he died from it. The fact that he died from something as meager as that, it screams suicide, woman. Whether is was consciously or subconsciously, I'm not sure. But- damn. You can't get hardly any other conclusion out of it."

"Maybe- He was-"

"Shut up, Bulma!" retorted Vegeta, "I don't want to hear anymore of your damn sleeping theories!"

There was a silence, ringing with Vegeta's words.

Vegeta regretted his severity. But he would not take back what had been said. Some things were better left as truth.

The silence was eerie. The rain began to slow to a gentle pitter on the autumn leaves. The dead brown husks that used to be green… used to be alive.

Slowly, Chichi began to speak,

"Gohan couldn't. Gohan wouldn't-"

She fell, burying herself in her son's inert chest. Hugging the body close, she was unwilling to release it- even when the smell of blood became too overpowering.

The leaves rustled indifferently in the passing storm.

Vegeta pulled her off the body- in distaste of it all.

"Control yourself, woman." He spat pushing her to one side.

She blinked her large, tear-filled eyes up at him. Like a broken little child. Like a broken toy.

Her blouse was stained a deep red that kept damp in the spitting rain. Vegeta watched as the inky streams slipped over her dark skirt and down upon the grasses.

-Almost as if she were bleeding from the rain.

"Either you accept it or you don't. But you will have to, if you want to get past this."

Chichi bowed her head, the dark locks hiding her damp face. She chuckled incoherently,

"I won't."

"You WILL get past this woman." Vegeta snarled harshly, "If not- I will force you."

The threat fell on deaf ears,

"Did you hear me? I said I'll force you! Gohan would not want you dead, especially when-"

"Vegeta stop." Bulma pleaded, hanging off his raised hand, "Leave her be."

He faltered, eyeing the woman peculiarly,

"You're pregnant?" He asked more then stated.

* * *

_**"M**om's pregnant?"_ repeated Gohan ineptly. 

_And I'm… I'm dead. Hm. The irony of this world… _

Gohan, using what ki sensing ability he figured to still have, saw what Vegeta saw in Chichi. Two different ki signatures. One was fainter then other, but only slightly and Gohan assumed it would change. It was a warm and friendly presence. Gohan almost found himself eager to meet the child, but- then, he wouldn't meet it. At least not in the way that it would know he was there.

The thought discouraged him.

Gohan rolled over on his belly to start awkwardly at his Mother. She faired no bigger then normal, but then it had only been two weeks. It was unlikely, but completely possible that his father would accidentally leave a part of him behind before the Cell Games. There was defiantly time for romance to strike that last week…

_Dead people aren't meant to see things like this. I'm not supposed to see what I'm leaving behind…_

Gohan gazed downward as he thought of possible places to go. Piccolo would be a nice start, but even if the Namekjin could see him- Gohan doubted there would be anything Piccolo could do.

_He'd just worry. _Gohan frowned, _He wouldn't like to find I haven't passed on._

He pounded upon a lot of locations that didn't quite make much more sense then the last. Kami's Lookout. Capsule Corp. Yunzibit Heights. Or even the worst, that he should wait for someone to come get him.

_"I can't stay here. I can't wait- I just can't stand this."_

Gohan rose, determined to do something- anything. But as soon as he took to the air- a weight fell heavily upon his shoulders. The further he pulled himself, the heavier this weight got. Gohan soon found he was having trouble even staying erect.

It was like pulling anchors. He dragged himself until finally he could move no farther. He had only made it a few hundred yards away from home. And here he was stuck, pushing against an invisible wall.

Exhausted, Gohan turned back. As he did the weight lifted off his shoulders- but not off his heart.

_I'm trapped._

* * *

**C**hichi frowned in frustration, 

"I am not."

Vegeta, surprisingly, backed off. He cast her a unsure glance- before lifting Gohan's broken body and carefully placing him over his shoulder,

"Bulma. I'm going to the lookout." Vegeta snapped, "The dragon balls take a year to regenerate. We will test your theory then."

And with that, the prince blast off- leaving a transparent trail of ki in his wake.

"I'm not." Chichi muttered again.

Bulma hugged the widow close, and whispered,

"Just wait a year, Chichi. I promise you'll be a mother again."

* * *

**G**ohan watched Vegeta leave with his body as he returned. Assuming that it was his body that kept him bounded, Gohan tried to follow, but he need only to get a few feet before the heaviness struck again. 

Dejected, Gohan returned to his mother's side.

Perhaps he was doomed haunt the place of his death. Maybe he wasn't allowed to leave it.

_It isn't fair- keeping me prisoner._

Bulma muttered a few things to Chichi, upon Gohan's final return. Inviting her to come back to Capsule Corp and the such. Sadly, Gohan stood alone in the wreckage as they walked off.

And in this moment of silence, Gohan realized- Vegeta was right. He had allowed the flames to destroy him. The comprehension of this practically destroyed Gohan. He half wished to just have been sent to HFIL.

The Dragon would _not_ revive him. His family would neversee him again. No one would come looking for him. And he could look for no one else.

He had been punished. By being unable to go to the Other World. By being unable to go to HFIL…

_No. _This_ is hell._

The silence ensued…

He had figured it ended here. With them walking away and leaving him forever. By accepting this nothingness of being alone.

But fate was much kinder then Gohan assumed…

He felt a pull, in his chest- yanking him after the two earthbound woman. Gohan accepted it, for the first time, in relief.

They continued to walk the rest of the night. Vegeta joined them at about daybreak. All three returned to Capsule Corporation just as the sun dawned the sky. And Gohan watched it all, dolefully, from the sidelines of his existence…

_But it's much better being prisoner to them, then to myself._

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please R & R!

Eh. I'm not sure I like it, but that's for the reviewers to determine, yes?

I was supposed to wait and send this **after** my beta looked at it. But I was bored, and you guys deserved some sort of update. So here it is. Once it **is** edited I'll repost it. But until then, enjoy. :insert smiley face:

So what you all waiting for? Hit the purple button and review already. Please! Pretty please?

Kudos to anyone who knows what Shojin means!


	3. Rinascita

**Still Here**

**Disclaimers**: Ho Hum. How should I put this? Dbz, how shall I own thee? Never! Never! Never! Verbal Tear Poetic enough for you?

And I'm still here too. Corny Author's joke. :ahem: Anyway! It's me and my ramblings again. Hope you never get tired of it.

First on the agenda… was the prize for the last chapter- Which no one won. So I'll keep the kudos. :insert grin: I guess we don't have very many Asian readers, ne?

Shojin is actually the Japanese word for prisoner, prison, or whatnot. (Clever, ne?) At least that is what my trusty little dictionary informed me. That's only the best that an ASL student can do. So sue me; we don't take written exams.

Once again, I must rant about the stupid quick-edit. So if you see :insert smiley face: it's because of quick-edit. Most anime fans will notice it's effect on our emotion faces. I don't quite understand how that's editing our document, but we'll just have work around it for now.

School's out. So updates will come more frequently unless something else distracts me. (Like writer's block.) But I have found that lately, with outlining every chapter beforehand, writer's block has seemed to fatigue me less. So there is hope in the darkness.

Enough with my rants and on with the story! Please review when you are done!

LAST TIME ON STILL HERE  
"Vegeta." Bulma's weak voice came behind him, "The dragon balls…"  
It was obnoxiously cold.  
_"Suicide? Me?"  
Why am I still here?_  
"Gohan couldn't. Gohan wouldn't-"  
"You're pregnant?"  
_"Mom's pregnant?"_  
"Just wait a year, Chichi. I promise you'll be a mother again."

* * *

**Chapter Three**: Rinascita 

"For of all sad words of tongue or pen,  
The saddest are these: 'It might have been!'"  
-John Greenleaf Whittier

**T**he room was filled with the creaking of a old rocking chair. Up and down it played it serene voice upon the room. It made listeners feel aged and calm. Like they too received wisdom from it's sound. It was a sad sound. It was all alone, save for the clicking of sewing needles. Those had no more effect on the gloom then the chair.

It was these sounds that filled the demi sayian. These sounds he had come to understand.

Several months had passed.

Eight and a day, Gohan recalled with quiet wonder.

Each had trickled away like grains of sand, slipping right through his fingers. Without participation, Gohan found days slipped by much faster then he thought they would. He never ate. He never slept. He just watched the movie take place before him.

To complain meant that he was dissatisfied with the punishment given. It should have been much worse. Gohan knew this… He was glad to count his blessings.

He was still hanging around- haunting Capsule Corp in a sense. He could never go far from his mother's side or else bear a horrible weight. But then again, he never felt the need to leave. He'd daydream when she slept. And kept himself preoccupied when she took care of her own business.

His mother was recovering his death quite nicely. Perhaps faster _and cleaner_ then Gohan would have liked. His name was less spoken, and Gohan began to feel more forgotten.

They never held a wake. Chichi had absolutely refused it. She still believed he'd come back.

Gohan wished they had given him one. It would give them closure. Right now they were all tangled in a game of fate- powers that mortals shouldn't mess with. The dragon balls were the biggest mistake the Gods could have made.

It gave false hopes.

Gohan dreaded that day- the day five months from now. If he came back, Gohan feared his family's embrace and their anger at his attempted suicide. But if he didn't… Gohan didn't want to think about _that_.

Chichi's belly had swelled tremendously over time. Gohan had kept constant check over the spirit inside her. It never responded in words. Just in emotions consisting of 'Hungry' or 'Happy'. But Gohan loved that child's happiness. It was all warm and bubbly. Like when he was with his father. Distant memories…Gohan could tell the child would be just like him.

He figured it would be a boy. It kicked too much to be a girl.

It would be coming soon too.

Besides feeling the baby's emotions, Gohan found he could sense nearly everyone's emotions he got near enough to. Not necessarily the same way in which he felt the child's though. There were scents the body let off while it experienced different emotions. Although Gohan didn't think he could smell anymore, this was the only way he could explain the way he read emotions.

Fear was a rather putrid smell of badly cooked meat. Happiness was like the sweet scent of flowers. Tranquil emotions often took a rather serene aroma of a fresh brook. Sadness was like a deep cologne that lingered too long in the nose. Anger was as sharp as the stink of fresh cut onions. And hope… it held no smell. But Gohan could smell it everywhere, in everyone that took residence in the Capsule Corporation.

Gohan turned instinctively as the door opened. Chichi remained in her chair- undaunted by the intrusion. She continued to sew, counting the stitches with every curve of her mouth. Gohan could smell his home again with a faint smell of burning onions overriding it.

Gohan's eyes watered. He blinked and looked at the intruder of his thoughts and his mother's room.

Vegeta stood in the frame.

"Have you seen Trunks?"

"Lost him again?" Chichi asked without losing count.

Vegeta didn't respond. He left letting the door slam shut at his exit. The smell of onions still hung in the air.

Gohan smiled softly- looking over his mother's shoulder at her neatly crocheted outfit. He leaned next to her ear and whispered,

_"He's under the bed."_

Chichi lifted her head but didn't respond. The woman stared longingly out the window seeing nothing but traffic and buildings.

She could move back home. It was rebuilt quite easily by Vegeta; under Bulma's command, of course. Lord knows his generosity went about as far as the edge of his nose. Maybe only to the bridge.

It was unfurnished for the most part but perfectly livable. It would definitely be healthier for her there then in the crowds of cities. This was something she wasn't used to. Gohan knew she hated every minute she spent here.

But she was waiting- waiting for Gohan to be revived.

It wouldn't be the same with her living in an empty house.

Gohan couldn't ask her to live alone… Not like he was living. No. He wouldn't wish that on anyone.

Gohan fell back lazily on the primly kept bed. His ghostly form bounced slightly at the contact. Or rather his wish of contact… His desire to be solid was the only thing that kept him hovering above it's fragile surface.

"Trunks-kun. He's gone."

A little head poked it's way out from beneath the drapes of it's blankets. It cooed and then pulled out it's body completely. Lilac topped head just barely reaching the mattress, the child rounded it's big blue eyes upon it's prey.

"Awunt ChuChu," Trunks, as he was still called, replied before scrambling to the side of her chair, "was he mad?"

_"Yes."_ called Gohan from the four-poster.

"No."

Chichi chuckled as she put her work down. Trunks immediately sat himself in her lap, as if eager for some sort of tale. A habit he had been forming lately. A habit Chichi had been letting him form. He was still small enough to fit; something Gohan envied the boy for.

Gohan watched them dolefully, silently despising Trunks.

Trunks leaned his head on Chichi's large stomach listening patiently for the heartbeat. He jerked back in surprise- suddenly, with hand clutching cheek,

"He kicked!"

"He does that."

Gohan found himself smiling, much to his displeasure. The smell was intoxicating.

Trunks' eyes were shining a strange and foreboding blue. The prospect of a new friend completely obsessed his little mind; just as it would any child.

_He might be far too rough the first couple of years._ Gohan worried.

His hands were on Mother's belly, hugging the child within.

"Bwother." He whispered.

Chichi didn't hear. Gohan did.

Gohan found himself on his feet and at their side before he knew what he was doing,

_"Take that back!"_ Gohan snapped.

Trunks didn't respond.

_"I said take it back!"_

Gohan threw a punch. It went crashing through Trunks' skull. A swooshing sound ripped at the air- ringing in the ears. Trunks didn't react. It never connected. No broken body. No blood.

Trunks shivered and smiled.

_Teeth still all in place._

"When it come out?"

"Soon, Trunks."

"Ah. You always say that." He replied, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Gohan fell back on the bed- dumbstruck. His face was burning with a numbness. He groped at it, trying to keep it from falling. To keep him from crying.

If he really had a face it would probably be as white as the sheets on the bed. They reflected his horror. Reflected his stupidity.

He tried to strike Trunks… Tried to strike a baby.

No. Not just strike- kill.

But why?

_Because he took my brother. He tried to take my brother away from me. _

He was just a baby though. He-

_doesn't know what he's talking about. That _could _be his brother for all he knows._

But then again, that brother-

_was never mine to begin with._

Gohan fell back and rolled over.

He pushed his face into the soft covers laughing hysterically. Laughing so hard- so much that he cried.

How could he? How dare he? He didn't exist anymore, remember?

The smell continued to linger. Wonderful sweet smell of bliss. Putrid and reeking of all it's glory. Gohan tried to block it out. Shove the sheets up his nose if he had to. But he didn't exist. The sheets never moved- the bed never creaked at his weight. He was weightless. He was soulless. Nonexistent and brotherless.

* * *

**"I**'m sorry, Chichi. He sometimes gets like this."

"Gets like WHAT- Woman!"

"Stop calling me that! Do you have to argue with everything I say?"

"Why not? You do it to me!"

She smiled delicately at the couple's bickering. Her face kept soft in it's understanding. It reminded her of earlier more buoyant years with Goku. And it didn't hurt. Thank Kami it no longer hurt.

It was lunchtime. Trunks was being punished for his antics earlier with an afternoon of his grandparents' company. Normally it wouldn't be so bad for him. But his grandmother was under strict orders to not allow any _borrowing_ of cookies. Gramps was always there if she failed. Chichi doubted that stopped Trunks though. He had too much of his mother in him.

She was leaning on a wooden table that perfectly fit six or so. Three untouched glasses rested in the middle next to a large pitcher. Their contents gleamed a pale yellow. Each was filled to the brim with lemonade- so plenty was to spare.

The fight had discarded all such lesser matters. Chichi wasn't thirsty anyway.

She played a dark lock around her finger watching the two.

They'd never admit it. They didn't even get married- heaven forbid. But they were in love. And they loved getting at each other's throats like this. It was a _strange_ way of showing affection. But then again, they were all strange people.

Chichi had found, with a touch of sadness, that she had settled down. She hardly rose her voice anymore. Could barely find herself raising the tone above a whisper half the time. Weak and frail, she would make any sayian scorn with contempt. Humans would give her pity looks. Not that she needed them. She had more then enough to go around.

Old and wised up, was she, with more sad and lonely tales then she'd dare to tell. And for Kami's sake, Chichi was only just touching her thirties.

She placed a hand on her stomach feeling the soft heartbeat echo through it.

_You are the only thing that is keeping your mother together, Ten. The _only_ thing._

"Chichi?"

She raised her head; meeting those concerned eyes again. She was starting to despise them.

"Are you alright? You kind of just zoned out on us."

"Now how could I? With all that racket you two were making?"

_Ah. Nice save. I think you are making me smarter, Ten. Ha. I'll bet you'll be a scholar._

Bulma frowned and cast a look to her spouse. He gave no such look back. Her footing gone, Bulma retreated.

She pulled at her chin and then smiled,

"You want to come out to the greenery room with us, Chi? I think Donna may let us see her brood today."

_Ah. Goku's nickname. I'm afraid it's not the same when other's say it._

Chichi smiled lightly and played at her chin as well.

She looked upwards. The sun was spilling from the glassed hole in it's ceiling. No doubt compliments from Vegeta. The kitchen was a dangerous place when sayians arrived in it.

She _had_ had experience in such matters.

"I'm afraid _Chi _has a bit of a cold."

_Now don't you ever go calling your mother that, Ten. _

"Besides, I think that pinkish pterodactyl has it in for me. Won't be much good for the baby if his mother is mauled before his birthday."

"You said his?" Bulma smiled playfully, "You think it's a boy."

Chichi cast her gaze downward before smiling,

"Well he kicks as nearly as much as Gohan did. Either that or a rather violent young tomboy." Chichi paused and then continued a bit weaker, "They certainly hurt more then Gohan's kicks did."

Vegeta let off a snort,

"Course. Kakorrot was stronger. This child will be too."

"Ah well. Guess he'll be a good addition to the Z team then." Chichi grinned patting her stomach.

When she looked up, both Vegeta and Bulma were giving her the most peculiar stares.

"What?" She questioned somewhat bewildered.

"Heh. Never mind." Bulma grinned sheepishly as Vegeta just shook his head, "Just- never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Oh. Hum." Chichi settled herself into the back of her chair, "Well, why not? If he really is going to be that powerful, might as well put it to good use."

_I'll just make sure your smart enough so that you won't be _as_ thickheaded as your father. Ah, Ten. I pray you've got Gohan's brains._

"It's just a part-time job anyway." Chichi shrugged, "He'll have to make a living. Super heroics don't usually come with paychecks."

"Or else you'd be rich right?" Bulma grinned, nudging her softly with an elbow.

"Damn Hercule for that." Chichi spat in frustration, "My son had more heroism in his pinky toe then that man had in his whole being."

"Hai. I'd drink to that."

Glasses clanged. Even Vegeta had raised a glass. Which was surprising- for him.

The lemonade was a bit tart for her tastes, but she figured it would be good her baby. He needed to taste different things. She had grown a great distaste for her meatloaf lately as well. Chichi guess it was his influence striking again.

Chichi lowered her glass; surprised to find it empty. She stared at it, somewhat baffled, until she spoke,

"I think Gohan would be happy… to hear he'll be an older brother."

"I'm sure he will be. We will tell him as soon as he comes back, Chichi."

Bulma touched her shoulder. Chichi shook it off.

"I need- a shower I think."

"Come join us later, Chichi. The fresh air would do you good." Bulma chuckled softly, "Well, as fresh as it can be in a city like this."

Chichi paused in her struggle to compose herself. A smile lifted on her lips,

"You know what? I think I will. Wait for me?"

"Ah, Chichi. You know I will."

She went down the hall and out of their sights. Bulma let out a soft sigh at her exit,

"I almost feel as if we are losing a bit of her everyday."

She waited for a cocky reply from her husband but he remained inanely still.

"Well, aren't you going to disagree with me?"

"Hmm."

He pulled away and leaned up against the wall.

"Well say something!" Bulma snapped.

"I say," Vegeta frowned, "if Gohan saw her as she is now- he wouldn't recognize her."

"Eh…" Bulma scowled, bowing her head, "Dammit. You should have shut up."

Bulma gave him a light slap in the arm as she returned to her kitchen. He spotted some rather fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she left.

Vegeta groaned in exasperation. He'd end up having to console her soon.

He waited, sniffing lightly at the air before following.

"You make me wear too much of that damn cologne, woman-"

* * *

**T**runks was running rampant in the hallways; cookies clamped tightly in his mouth. Gohan could have sworn he counted six or seven there as he whizzed by.

_He'll make one hell of a teenager. _

Chichi was inside the bathroom. Gohan could hear the shower running from the outside. He would go inside, to lift some of the weight, but his mother's nude body perturbed him. He figured it was normal.

No children like to see their parents or siblings naked. Or at least most don't.

Gohan leaned casually backwards, still slightly bothered by their conversation of him earlier. It had been the first time they had spoken his name in weeks. The thing that had upset him most about it was the fact that they spoke as if he was just in the other room or something. Like he had just gone on a vacation.

He hated that smell. He knew they were all just fooling themselves.

Gohan wasn't coming back.

Gohan turned instinctively. There was a sudden crashing sound from inside the bathroom. The drizzling of the shower was gone; replaced with eerie silence.

_She might just have knocked something down. Mother tends to be more of a klutz lately._

Gohan waited- and waited. But there was no sound after that.

Worry consumed him.

Gohan drifted through the door. It was an unpleasant sensation. He tried to avoid going through objects at much as possible for that exact reason. It was creepy but then again, he _was_ dead.

The sight that met him was frightening. The first thing he noticed was that the mirror cabinet had been unhinged from the wall. All that was left were the bolts that used to hold it.

It had fallen into the sink, half filled with water, and shattered. Some of the pieces floated above the water. Some sunk.

There were red rings in the water.

Gohan's heart stopped.

Chichi lay, wrapped in a towel and propped up by the door, clutching her wounded forehead. Blood was slipping through her fingers. She wasn't cut bad. But that wasn't the reason for her being on the floor.

She was in labor.

_"Mom."_ Gohan choked through his dry throat, _"Come on, Mom. Scream for help."_

Chichi didn't move. She was frozen in her stance, clutching her bleeding forehead. Her body trembled with each contraction. Trembled worse and worse.

Gohan willed her to breathe. She didn't.

_"Mom! You have to get up!"_ Gohan cried, _"You have to let someone know you are in here! They won't find you if you don't do anything."_

Tears were slipping down her cheeks.

_"Please! I know it hurts."_

Gohan tried to clasp her hand. His passed right through.

_"Please, mother."_ Gohan pleaded.

She trembled and cried in silent pain.

"MOM!" Gohan shrieked drawing back an opened palm, "DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO JOIN ME!"

He slapped her. Her head tipped to one side.

"DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

He slapped again. Her head tipped the other way.

"I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU IF YOU LET THIS BABY DIE!"

He continued to smack her. Chichi's cheeks grew red. Her eyes still remained vacant of life.

"DON'T YOU DIE! DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME! DON'T YOU DARE!"

She was silent.

"THAT'S YOUR PROBLEM, MOM! YOU NEVER LISTEN! IF YOU'D LISTEN FOR ONCE MAYBE LIFE WOULDN'T BE SUCH HELL FOR YOU!"

Silence.

"I KNOW LIFE WAS HARD. AND I KNOW WE LEFT YOU. AND I HATE MYSELF FOR IT. BUT IF YOU LEAVE NOW, IT WOULD HAVE ALL BEEN FOR NOTHING!"

Her lips were blue.

**"SO SUCK IT UP!"**

There was one final resounding slap.

Gohan drew back in shock, his hands completely numb.

Chichi coughed. Then she took a deep breath. Gasping and wheezing, she managed to pull herself slightly off the floor. She leaned against the porcelain sink just as the door crashed open.

Trunks was there, cookie crumbs still covering his face. Both parents were in toe. Chichi collapsed into Vegeta's arms as soon he reached for her. She clutched weakly to him, refusing to pass out again.

Gohan was glad. Looked like she'd make it after all. A smile played on his lips.

He figured this would be the perfect time to disappear in a luminance of golden light. He had done right by his mother. He had done his good deed.

But he followed them to the hospital. Then to the waiting room. The weight played on him- walls being the only thing keeping him from his mother. He wanted to stay with her, but it didn't feel right watching. Gohan had had enough of her blood for one night.

They waited an hour or so. Time didn't play as much of a toll on Gohan as it did on the others. Five nurses had come out during that time. One to announce a successful surgery. One to announce twins. Three others to announce deaths. They always seemed to follow right after the fact that_ they had done the best they could_. Gohan was doubtful.

_Could have broken it to them nicer. Course with this job, you kind of have to be heartless, right? That's why mother decided against me becoming one. She didn't think I could handle it._

Gohan laughed brokenly at his own thoughts.

_Better doctor than hero, I bet._

"Son Chichi?"

"Ah yes." Bulma bounded eagerly over to the doctor; Trunks close in hand, "We are old family friends. Is she- alright?"

"She's fine." The doctor smiled looking over his clipboard, "We treated the injuries she acquired from the fall. And she's recovering quite nicely."

"And the child-" Vegeta urged, startling Bulma.

"Oh. Of course." The doctor nodded, "All fine. It's a healthy baby boy."

Gohan felt his heart rise. The pointless chatter in the room subsided. All that matter at the moment was what the doctor spoke. He came in closer to the Briefs as the Doctor led them to where they could see the child.

It would be a glassed room. They had strict rules to follow as well. They couldn't touch the baby but they could look as long as they liked. Trunks had to be watched at all times.

Even though the venture seemed pointless, seeing as the child was already known to be healthy and a definite boy, they all still eagerly rounded the hallways. Each trying to be patient not to run. Patient not to whoop for joy at the sight of Goku's second son. They wouldn't be able to see Chichi until morning anyways.

That whooping was rather beneath Vegeta though.

Gohan figured that he wouldn't be able to make it all the way. His bond with his mother was already strained and he had no idea how far he might have to go from his mother to get to the room. But as he went, the strain withdrew.

Gohan smiled and knew. This baby was his jailer.

For some reason, that didn't seem to bother him all that much.

The rooms in the hallways reeked of weakness. Each plagued him with different kinds of death and unhappiness. Few smelt empty. Few smelt of flowers.

But even this didn't bother him. He was going to meet his brother. It didn't matter if the whole world was dying. It didn't matter if it was ending. It didn't matter if the boy couldn't see or know him. All _he_ needed was to see this brother of his. Everything else came second.

They arrived. Flowers bloomed ripe in here. So many happy parents and family members lined the room poking at the glass to different bundles of blue and pink. So many that Gohan wondered if he could spot his own.

"There." Bulma smiled, pointing to the blue bundle, "It says his Mom's name on the tag. See? See Trunks?"

"Goten."

Both Vegeta and Gohan played the name on their tongues. Bulma only laughed,

"Ten. Tenchi. I bet that's what she meant." She chuckled, "She just added the Go to make it ring like Goku and Gohan's did."

"What's Tenshi mean?" Trunks asked curiously.

"Tenchi." Bulma corrected and then smiled sadly, "Means Heaven."

"Ah." Trunks nodded in only half understanding.

Gohan leaned forward. Bulma waved a nurse over and had her lift Goten up for them to goggle at.

He cried in her strange arms. They couldn't hear his cries. They only saw his opened mouth moving up and down. No tears. He was too young for them yet. He exhausted himself with yells.

The infant's face was so scrunched up that they couldn't decipher if he had Goku's nose or Chichi's eyes. He was all red and wrinkled- looked like a tomato under his dark unruly hair.

"He's a sayian." Vegeta nodded, noting the hair, "Just no tail on him."

"Well that's good." Bulma grinned, pressing against the glass and cooing, "We don't need anymore big apes running around, do we, Goten? No, we don't."

"Apes?"

"I'll explain it to you when you are older, Trunks."

Gohan pushed himself through the glass. The sound was near deafening. So many babies crying at once.

_No wonder they kept this glassed up. _

Gohan came up beside his own screaming brother. The Nurse's smile was wry; he could tell she had been doing this all day. He kind of felt bad for her.

_"Geez. Goten. You sure have a howler on you."_

Gohan laughed at his own joke but hushed soon there after. Goten had completely stopped- his bright blue eyes focusing blearily on him. Gohan could hear the beating of his supposed heart.

"Mommy. I heawd a stwange voice come fwom Awunt ChuChu's bathwoom."

He reached out a hesitant hand.

"Oh really, Trunks?"

"Yes… He sound weal mad."

Gohan felt the boy's flesh. He felt it… he could touch it. It was completely smooth and flawless.

He kept blinking uncontrollably. How could he do this? Gohan was dead, wasn't he?

"He wouldn't let Awunt ChuChu die, he say…"

Goten clutched his hand. _He was much too young to do this._ His hands were incredibly warm. Gohan found the warmth filling him. The cold, for the first time, was going away.

_It was you…_ Gohan smiled and squeezed his hand about Goten's tiny ones. _You saved me, Goten. You were that ball of light._

"…don't you dawe join me. He say mean things."

Goten's face didn't break into a smile of any sorts. He just stared. His stare smiled more then his face ever could.

"He say suck it up."

"Trunks!"

"He say it! Not me!"

Gohan was crying. He didn't realize ghosts could cry…

"Mommy? Who that boy that yell at Awunt ChuChu?"

"I- I don't know, Trunks."

His tears were real. They slipped down onto Goten's tiny blue blanket. They were large and thick tears that gave the blanket darker circles. Gohan would have tried to wipe his tears away, had his hand not been clasped.

The warmth was beautiful. He didn't recognize this smell.

It didn't matter really. He knew why he was here now.

_"I love you, Goten."_ Gohan whispered, tears falling.

He kissed his brother's forehead.

Goten's eyes shined. He cried no more.

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please R & R!

Alright then. Another chapter. Another chapter.

I have the horrible feeling though, that most people are more concerned about another chapter coming faster rather the quality of work. That pretty sad if you ask me. I'd rather have a good chapter slow then a bad chapter fast. What's the point of reading them then?

Rinascita. If anyone can guess that they get two cookies! I'll give you a hint… It is the origin of the word Renaissance. So if someone can tell me what Renaissance means they will know what this chapter meant.

I love all of your reviews. I hope you take the time to review for this chapter as well. Aiming for 15 reviews! Let's see if I can reach my goal.

Holy crapo! This chapter is 20 pages long printed out! No one try to print it out!

I'm posting this chapter up in honor of my three long years of selfless serving That's right! I've been posting stories for three years now. I have no life! So let's celebrate it!

Remember! Two cookies this time to anyone who can guess what Rinascita means!


	4. Falha

**Still Here**

**Disclaimers**: Ho Hum. How should I put this? Dbz, how shall I own thee? Never! Never! Never! Verbal Tear Poetic enough for you?

It took me forever- I know. I was actually considering dropping the Dbz section for good. It just seemed like too much work to get back into. But I miss the magic, and the action that this story had going. So I will continue- but I'm not sure how often or for how long.

I had several people email me and demand for me to put up some note to tell everyone if I was discontinuing the story or not. Well- first that's against fanfiction dot net's policy and I don't need anymore of their administrators breathing down my neck. And second, that's just not something I do. I don't like putting up notes telling that I've given up on ideas. Because in truth- I haven't given up on any of my ideas. I've just evolved them and re-entered them into different situations or characters. Now- I may come back to a discontinued story. But if I officially marked it as discontinued- no one would look for it anymore or even notice if it was updated.

Those are my reasons. I hope those who've been waiting will understand. There hasn't been much inspiration for the Dbz section lately- with the creation of GT. :groans: So I hope you- those who are still watching this story- will understand my own lack of inspiration.

There were prizes for last chapter. And they go to: Nozomi and Hotaru, Riye Link/ Reue, and Skadu. They all guessed the last chapter title right. It was the Greek word meaning "rebirth". They all get digital cookies. Yay.

And on with the next chapter.

LAST TIME ON STILL HERE  
She still believed he'd come back.  
"Bwother." He whispered.  
He didn't exist anymore, remember?  
"I say," Vegeta frowned, "if Gohan saw her as she is now- he wouldn't recognize her."  
"I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU IF YOU LET THIS BABY DIE!"  
_"I love you, Goten."_ Gohan whispered, tears falling.

* * *

**  
Chapter Four**: Falha 

"Death is the only inescapable, unavoidable, sure thing. We are sentenced to die the day we're born."  
-Gary Mark Gilmore

_**"S**hut up! Shut up! Shut up!" _

The eulogy continued. Continued to compliment the stoic face inside the open coffin. No amount of screaming or yelling could stop the procession. The face remained unmoving while it's bodiless voice screamed. The ugly face. Perfectly unaged in its year of death.

_"Shut the hell up! Stop complimenting me!"_

Chichi held her sorrow up within her. Held it tight within her- so hard that her breathing even had to be stopped. Her arms felt numb. She hardly knew she was holding Goten. Her heart and soul were with the preacher's words.

"And so we are here, to say goodbye to a Mister Son Gohan..."

_"Stop it! Stop it! I hate it! Stop it!"_

Gohan dropped to the floor- to his knees and cried. His head bent up to heavens- sunlight passed right through him. His eyes and face were illuminated but never seen. He remained ignored.

_"Stop missing me..."_

* * *

**A** half circle in the sky beckoned storm clouds and dark things of all measure. The stick that led to it- wavered in trepidation. And came from it a voice that scarred an unmistakable wound upon the broken heroes of Earth. 

"That what you wish cannot come to pass."

The wingless dragon boomed the death sentence around them without mercy. The dark sky and forked flashes of lighting were finally as foreboding as the dragon's own reply.

The audience remained just as white faced as when the dragon emitted itself from their self-collected dragon balls. In one way or another- they had all been bracing themselves for such a answer.

Shenron bowed over the same human and alien team of the countless summons before. Some faces had aged. Some faces had gone. Some were even new- replacements for the ones gone. But they were still the same group.

There had to be some rule against that.

"What do you mean?" Bulma shouted, keeping young Trunks tightly underfoot. "Gohan has never died before."

Trunks squirmed and wiggled about like a inch worm before a hungry bird. Great Shenron still had it's affect on newcomers.

It didn't cease to be miracle wonder of the world, even in its overuse.

"Some wounds cannot be healed when self inflicted."

* * *

**"G**ohan was a good friend," Krillen's kind words stammered from the front podium. "He was a hero. A brave hero. He was definitely... a hero." 

The dark haired boy watched with misted eyes as Krillen wiped his own. Gohan hugged himself and cried at the incredible pain. Dying with each kind word. Screaming at each person's regret of his loss.

_"I'm not a hero. I killed your hero."_

Even if he had a voice anymore, Gohan doubted very seriously they would listen to them. They were caught up in their blissful fantasies of who this son of a hero was. None of them ever knew Gohan. And none of them ever would.

"I remember all those times on Namek. Those were good times."

Bulma nodded in reminiscence. Her hand was tensely clenched over that of her son's. He looked up at his mother, whispering for her release.

Gohan looked over at his mother and Goten. And whispered the same thing.

_"Please. Let's just go..."_

* * *

**"M**ommy! Mommy!" 

She held her child as Trunks thrashed about. The giant dragon was far too much for someone as small as he.

As that older boy flailed, Goten made no such peep. He only stared softly into the distant storm clouds, in a sort of trance.

Chichi watched his dark eyes follow the clouds- wishing for such a distraction herself. Her bright summer's dress seemed out of place in this desolate and windy palace of the skies. She had dressed up- wrapped in the illusion that she'd get her son back today. She looked like a Angel misinformed- on her way through hell.

"So it was suicide..." Chichi whispered woefully.

_"Not intentionally... I never meant to."_

She had always thought the Shenlong would always be able to grant back the lives that were lost. Goku always made it seem possible. Made them all feel immortal.

Perhaps it was never right to feel immortal. Maybe- without that silly notion in their heads- they all would have lived much longer.

"I never realized how unhappy- how unhappy he was."

_"Mother..."_

* * *

"Gohan was Goku's son." 

"Amen," came the chorus.

Gohan damned them all.

* * *

**T**he truth of it was that Gohan had predicted such an ending. This was the rehearsed nightmare of all other nightmares. He knew exactly what the dragon would say. Exactly how each person would react. He knew this would all be a wasted hour of their day. 

Gohan stamped his feet in frustration. Never before had he wished to be more solid. No matter how hard he pounded- no sound nor mark made it upon the glistened tile beneath his feet.

Goten's eyes were upon the nearby spirit. Gohan made sure not to catch the infant's eye.

Piccolo wasn't even there. Gohan assumed that he knew exactly what Gohan had. There would be no reunion on such a day like this.

The once demi sayian let out a sigh and looked up at the Shenlong. The dragon seemed to see him there. Gohan's reflection shown in its large crimson pupils. He smiled up at himself- despite how much Gohan despised the face looking back upon him.

_"Game over, then?"_

* * *

**H**is eyes were red and running with thick wet tears. They never splashed the floor. And they never made a sound. 

He hated this part of the game.

"Gohan was kind."

"Gohan was sweet."

"Gohan was..."

"Gohan was..."

_"I want to die."_

* * *

**  
**

**C**hichi had started to cry and no one went to comfort her. They were the silent and determined tears. Everyone knew they were ones not to be reckoned with.

The tears splashed Goten's face and made him blink. Dark blue eyes returned to his mother's face. They watched like a true spectator- not yet capable to understand grief.

The spirit stood before her and held his shaking hands to his side. She would cry forever and he would never be able to make her stop. He would never realize how much she missed the times they yelled at each other over trivial things. He would never realize that she missed him all the more each day. He would never ever know that she loved him far more than Goku.

She cried because he didn't know.

Gohan tried to wipe her tears- but his fingers remained unable to catch them.

_"Mother... please."_

Gohan tried again- her flesh was warm. Chichi shivered and immediatly was quiet.

* * *

**"C**hichi- are you..." 

"A mother should only morn once."

Gohan closed the gap between him and the floor. His head drew close to his knees and there he breathed. Those words killed him all over again.

_"How many times am I supposed to say sorry?"_

* * *

**"C**hichi, are you alright?" 

Chichi didn't make move to answer. Krillen looked sincerely worried. He tried again, touching her arm as stimulation, "Chichi?"

"Eh. Mom?" Chichi muttered softly- looking around.

"What?"

She looked wide eyed upon Krillen and then back upon the Shenron who still hovered patiently above them. Her eyes were different. Rounder and darker. Krillen withdrew at her gaze.

"Shenron!"

The red eyes fell upon the spot beside the human female.

"Would there be a reason for Gohan being unable to reach heaven?"

The rest of the crew looked upon Chichi with bewilderment. A creative question- it wasn't like her to ask something so silly.

"All spirits are guided to Heaven at their times."

"But what if- What if my guide didn't show up?" Chichi shouted, "What if I was stuck?"

"Then you are stuck."

Chichi frowned- looking absolutely stumped by that answer.

"Can I get unstuck?" She asked after a time.

"If Heaven has ignored you, child, then you are forsaken. Forsaken souls can only wait till they are discovered again."

"What if I'm never discovered?"

"Then your story is a sad one."

"But that-!"

"If you have no wish then I am no longer permitted to be here."

Chichi closed her eyes and Gohan looked longingly at his dead reflection. "Yes. Shenron. We're done here."

Chichi sighed as Gohan withdrew. Goten fell asleep. And the dragon flew away. It was possibly the worst fairy tale ending ever.

* * *

**T**he funeral ended at four o'clock sharp. Gohan only knew because the bell thundered its chimes over them. 

Four for the tears that fell.

Three for the people he hurt.

Two for the wounds that would scar.

One for the corpse in a box.

Gohan didn't want to leave the church. But Goten tugged the leash and Gohan's feet began to slide. The infant had a power over him that no one else in the world ever had. Gohan found it both amusing and annoying.

Goten was his guardian.

Looking through the cathedrals stained glass- Gohan could see the haze of the afternoon sun. And there he made his oath. He would leave the shadows of who he was behind. He was no longer Son of Goku. No longer a hero. No longer Gohan.

He was just a spirit who would protect the child he was assigned to.

Not an angel but a guard. And he would make sure he did his job well.

And at the fourth chime, Gohan had left the cathedral behind.

* * *

**T**he months had gone by in a dull haze of smells and colors. Gohan watched as the child he had first met in the sweet smelling room of white flowers grow legs and arms and personality. Goten became no longer name but a person. 

And his prison keeper just kept getting cuter and cuter.

Goten was only nine months and could already pull himself up. He'd waddle about in his adorable attempts at walking. It wasn't long until Gohan's oath of protecting Goten- came to the test.

Chichi was in the kitchen and just happened to turn when it happened. Goten knocked against the dinning room table and a large porcelain bowl came plummeting down upon the small child's head.

She could only scream.

By miracle, the child's feet were knocked from behind and he fell to sweet safety on a couch throw pillow.

Chichi had no idea what invisible force tripped her child. She had no knowledge to why the couch pillow just happened to catch her child's face. All she knew was the bowl shattered and Goten was still alive.

Chichi ran to her child- embraced him, smothered him, and loved him. Gohan watched dolefully from his self made sidelines and smiled.

From the innards of the pillow had come the half giggled half spoken word, "Gho." Chichi didn't hear it but Gohan did. And that's what made him smile.

The best thank you he had ever gotten.

* * *

To Be Continued  
Please R & R!

Right. Now can anyone guess what Falha means? It's Portugese.

Well this chapter was rather abstract- and I'm sorry about it. I just couldn't seem to write it the way I planned to. I hope not too many people are disappointed.

I'll update again as soon as I can.

Love ya all! Reviews are much appreciated.


	5. Freundschaft

**Still Here**

**Disclaimers**: Ho Hum. How should I put this? Dbz, how shall I own thee? Never! Never! Never! Verbal Tear Poetic enough for you?

Funny this is, I had a writer's block this morning and tonight I was just completely inspired, for no reason at all to write in this story.

Congrats to Skadu who guessed what Falha meant. But I'll give points to Sk8er-kitty888 for trying. She might have been right too- I'm not sure completely. But the translator program said Skadu's guess was right. Falha means failure.

Unfortunately a thunderstorm has brewed over my house so I'll have to get off for the time being. I'll continue this author's note and the story when I get back.

And I'm back, not as soon as I would have liked but I am. So now onward to the story.

LAST TIME ON STILL HERE  
"_Stop missing me..."_  
"That what you wish cannot come to pass."  
"Gohan has never died before."  
"Some wounds cannot be healed when self inflicted."  
She looked like a Angel misinformed- on her way through hell.  
"Gohan was Goku's son."  
He was no longer Son of Goku. No longer a hero. No longer Gohan.

* * *

**Chapter Five**: Freundschaft

"Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend."  
-Albert Camus

**A**nd he fell backwards into the soft bed of meadow grass. Its little green fingers got caught up in the boy's fine dark hair- tickling him relentlessly. These were the constant friends of an only child living with a single parent.

Life should have been incredibly lonely for little Goten, but yet he grew up smoothly and rapidly. He never complained of being bored or alone. It seemed he accepted this world of forest and quiet as his own reclusive life.

He had lived this way, alone, for nearly five years now. No sign of depression or loneliness- and Chichi frequently checked. Goten was just as happy without a brother than he was with one.

But what Chichi didn't know, and what all the other living beings didn't know, was that Goten was not talking to or playing by himself. He had a very special friend. A friend that only he could see. His friend was named _Ghost_.

"Stop tickling me!" Goten squealing squirming back and forth through the green grass. "No fawrr!"

He rolled over on his belly taking in long deep breaths. The scent of soil and mother earth relaxed him, and gave him back the energy to grin up at his attacker.

Gohan, or Ghost as he was now known, sat beside him donning a similar grin. To Goten it was the exact same grin he wore- but to a more careful eye one could see a subtle bit of sadness hooked at the corners of his lips.

Goten pushed himself up weakly, and stuck out his pink tongue. Gohan merely laughed in response. _He _laughed Gohan never laughed but _Ghost_, he laughed almost all the time.

Goten looked so much like his father it was almost maddening. The demi sayian had to remind himself everyday to forget. And everyday of this Goten became more of Goten and less of Goku... unless he smiled, cause then Gohan would have to start the process all over again.

_"That's what you get for teasing Icarus,"_ chuckled Gohan, tapping Goten's nose all-knowingly.

Goten beamed. "He's pink. It's funny."

_"You're pink too, aren't you?"_

"No! I am _peach_!" defended Goten firmly. "It vewy different."

_"Of course it is."_

Goten stuck up his nose. He did this whenever he could sense Gohan wasn't being completely truthful. Goten could almost sense as much about Gohan as Gohan could about him. They were perfect- bonded souls. Gohan loved it this way. It made him glad sometimes- that he had died.

"Ghost," Goten frowned suddenly, looking over to their house. Gohan waited but after that Goten went silent. He was watching his mother through the kitchen window. His eyes were filled with curiosity.

"Do you have a mommy, Ghost?"

Gohan frowned too, looking at the woman just beyond the glass.

_"Nah. I lost her a long time ago, Goten."_

Goten looked up at his would-be brother with childlike sadness. "Why? Can't you find her?"

Gohan watched as Chichi leaned over the sink admiring the flowers sunning in the window sill there. A single dark bang fell over her face and she brushed it back with the back of her hand. A rush of nostalgia hit the demi sayian.

_"No. I can't."_

"Well, you can share my mommy with me." Goten stated proudly. "Mommy can be both our mommies."

Goten tugged on Gohan's leg, and spoke as loud as he could- but Gohan was no longer listening.

* * *

**"G**oten! Goten-... Oh! There you are," Chichi sighed as Goten timely opened the screen door. He looked up at his mother with his wide dark childish eyes- not looking much different from a much older man she once knew.

She immediately set herself to the height of her son- placing hands comfortably on her knobby knees.

"I have a surprise for you today, Goten," Chichi smiled sincerely.

"A birffday cake?" asked Goten hopefully, tipping his head to one side.

Chichi giggled, "Even better! I've got a friend for you to meet."

"A fwend?" Goten repeated, completely baffled.

"Yes. A friend," Chichi stroked her son's hair affectionately. "Do you know what a friend is, Goten?"

He shook his head roughly making Chichi smile all the more.

"A friend is someone that you like very much and enjoy playing with. Do you understand, Goten?"

"Oh. Yesh. I already met fwend then." smiled Goten mysteriously.

"You have?"

"Yesh. Ghost. He's my fwend."

"Oh, honey," Chichi sighed, knowing all too well about Ghost. "Ghost is an imaginary friend, sweetheart. He's not-"

"Means he's special, wight?"

Chichi let off another sigh and just gave up. Best let him be five. "Right, sweetie. Ghost is special."

Just then the roar of a helicopter's blades ripping the air, cut the quiet of their home. Goten ducked behind his mother's legs in fear- not knowing that in a few minutes he would meet someone who would soon be his very first living friend.

* * *

**A** blue haired woman came out of the screaming machine first, followed then by a lavender topped boy who appeared nearly the same age as Goten. The woman flung her arms about Chichi giggling happily- her excited voice drowned out by the dying roar of the helicopter's engines.

The boy, on the other hand, wore a sneer and stayed as far away from his mother as possible.

"Chichi!" The woman cried, her voice finally able to be heard, "It's been so long! I've missed you!"

"Damn- Er, Geez," Chichi corrected herself sharply, "You don't even look a day over thirty, Bulma."

Bulma merely waved the compliment off, soon captivated by the little boy hugging her best friend's legs.

"Is this-?"

"It is." Chichi nodded.

"Oh my goodness," Bulma came gently to her knees before the boy, just causing him to recoil and hide his face in his mother's thigh. "Oh Goten, you've gotten so big."

Goten looked over at the woman with new interest. "You know my name?"

Bulma was beside herself. She covered her mouth to keep from giggling again.

"He's so _kawaii_, Chichi." She then turned back her attention to the little Goku-look-alike, "My name's Bulma, Goten. We met you were _really_ little."

She empathized the little with her index and thumb. Goten doubted he was ever that small, but he took the woman's bait. He smiled.

Bulma let out a squeal causing Goten to shy away again, "He looks just like him, doesn't he? So _kawaii_!"

"Yes, he does." Chichi smiled weakly.

Bulma grinned and held out her arms to the boy. "Can I get a hug, Goten?"

Goten looked to her and then to the boy behind her. He pointed his chubby finger to the boy and asked, "Who's that?"

Not in the least bit offended, Bulma turned and beckoned the boy over. He merely took a few more steps closer so that he was in listening range. Bulma frowned, "That's Trunks. My son. Unfortunately he has his father's haughty attitude sometimes... Come here, Trunks! Don't be rude."

Trunks came closer, but just enough to satisfy his mother. Goten could tell at this distance that the boy was considerably taller than him- at least by a couple of inches. It caused Goten's shyness to kick back in.

"Hi." Trunks grunted, not bothering to bow or wave. Bulma was not particularly pleased.

"Hewo." Goten nodded, still behind the shelter of his mother's legs.

And then there was silence. Bulma and Chichi both decided in mutual agreement- to leave the boys to it. Goten was rather upset when the legs left without him.

"Play with him," Was all his mother said, leaving him feeling incredibly naked.

Unbeknownst to the boys, both mothers were looking through the kitchen window after them- crossing their fingers.

The silence ensued.

Trunks made the first move, shuffling his feet slightly in the grass before sitting down. Goten mimicked him, still unable to talk to the boy in anyway.

The older boy preoccupied himself with the blades of grass and stuff around him and Goten just watched, eagled eyed and wanting so badly to be able to play with him.

But he was just too scared.

_"What are you waiting for, Goten?"_

Goten looked up. Ghost was there, looking over at Trunks with a soft smile on his face.

"I'm scared." Goten frowned bowing his head.

_"Don't be. I know Trunks. He's a good kid. You guys will get along fine."_

"I'll go, if you go too." Goten sputtered, digging his fingers into the dirt nervously.

_"Alright. But I'm not going to talk to him, Goten. You have to talk to him."_

"Alwight. I will. But you haft to come."

_"I will, I will."_

And after what seemed to be a long bit of quarreling amongst himself, Goten stood up and walked over to Trunks. Both mothers held their breath, and Trunks looked up curiously.

"Hi, wanna play with me?" Goten said rapidly, holding out his dirty hand.

Trunks looked at it, made a funny face, and then looked back up at Goten. A smile seemed to form on his face from out of thin air.

"How old are you?"

"I'm," He counted on his fingers and held up his index, middle, and ring fingers, "five."

Trunks' smile widened, "I'm six. Which means I'm better than you."

Goten's face went from white to red faster than a traffic light. "Does not!"

"Yes, it does. It means I get to chose the first game. And I wanna go swimming."

Goten's anger vanished. "Oh. I know a good place to swim. It's a cweek!"

"Creek," Trunks corrected with a roll of his eyes.

"I said that!" replied Goten indignantly. "Cweek."

Gohan laughed.

Trunks looked over at to where the sound came from. Gohan covered his mouth. His mind flashed back to the day of Goten's birth. Trunks seemed to have been able to hear him then- at least that's what he kept saying. Could he...? Could he possibly...?

"What is it, Twunks?" Goten asked curiously.

"I thought I heard," He turned back to Goten and spat. " _My name's Trunks_!"

"I said that! I said that."

And the boys took off, leaving Gohan laughing in amusement. Both mothers congratulated each other, not even knowing of Gohan's great feat.

Goten and Trunks soon became best of friends. But Gohan had to make sure that all future disputes were solved without him.

Because Gohan had a feeling, Trunks could hear him...

* * *

To Be Continued...  
Please R & R!

This chapter was actually pretty hard to write. Mostly because it was just filling in the blanks and stuff. Time will pass pretty quickly through these chapters because they are pretty typical sort of things. The big chapters that I wanna get to will be a while ahead.

Congrats to those who guess what Falha was last chapter. Now can anyone guess what Freundschaft is? It's German. Have fun.

Thanks to those that reviewed last chapter. That would be **Dreamer of Death**, **DemiSaiyan**, **Samara-chan**, **Son Akito**, **Sk8er-kitty888**, **Dbz Chick1**,** Skadu**, and **Drek Rak'stom**.

Thank you. Feedback is much appreciated.


	6. Azonos

**Still Here**

**Disclaimers**: Ho Hum. How should I put this? Dbz, how shall I own thee? Never! Never! Never! Verbal Tear Poetic enough for you?

It's been awhile but I finally have the inspiration to continue. And boy did I get it. The Brolli movie. Armor for Sleep- What To Do When You're Dead soundtrack. Yu Yu Hakusho Poltergeist Report movie. The newest Harry Potter book. So much inspiration! I'm very excited! I hope all you are. Cause this combination of wonderful things can only be good!

Good luck with the word this time. It's Hungarian.

LAST TIME ON STILL HERE  
His friend was named _Ghost_.  
"Do you have a mommy, Ghost?"  
"Nah. I lost her a long time ago, Goten."  
"Mommy can be both our mommies."  
"I have a surprise for you today, Goten," Chichi smiled sincerely.  
"Ghost is an imaginary friend, sweetheart. He's not-"  
He pointed his chubby finger to the boy and asked, "Who's that?"  
"What are you waiting for, Goten?"  
"I'll go, if you go too."  
Because Gohan had a feeling, Trunks could hear him...

* * *

**  
Chapter Six**: Azonos 

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent."  
-John Donne

**T**he night chattered noisily around the two of them as they sat comfortably under canopy of trees and stars. Goten nestled against his guardian's chest still caught in pleasant dreams. Gohan smiled down at his would be brother and then back up at the vastly lit night sky.

Still no sign, but Gohan was quite comfortable now. If they came to retrieve him now, Gohan was sure he'd want to stay. Gohan often played out the scenario in his head- a big official looking other world employee, sometimes clad with an extra appendage or two, would come down with his clipboard and frown apologizing for the long wait. Goten would hide behind Gohan's legs and ask his brother if he was leaving. Then Gohan would ruffle Goten's soft black hair with a big smile on his face and say, _"No way, Goten. There's no way I'd leave you."_

Gohan smiled as his imagination weaved the bewilderment on the official's face. _What would he tell the Other World? Son Goku's son wanted to stay!_

And for some reason, Gohan got satisfaction in his father's disappointed face. Or what he thought was his father's face. He had kind of forgotten what the great Son Goku looked like now.

Gohan let off a small sigh. His eyes were growing tired. For one without a body he certainly seemed quite normal. He got tired, hungry, thirsty, bored, happy and sad. It was probably because of Goten. The little boy gave him a body to share. With Goten he was solid and real.

Gohan leaned against the tree, holding the little boy closer to his side. Just as his eyes managed to shut- Goten stirred.

Gohan looked down just as Goten's big chocolate eyes looked into his.

"Did I fall asleep, Ghost?" Goten asked sweetly.

Gohan smiled. _"Yup. But your mom came out and checked on you,"_ Gohan tugged on the blanket draped over the child's body as proof, _"You can stay out here with me tonight."_

"Oh. Kay," His brow wrinkled as if giving sign that something was troubling him. Gohan looked back up the at the night sky waiting for Goten to bring the issue up.

The five year old often got upset if _Ghost_ seemingly read his mind. He claimed it was Gohan's super power. Little did Goten know that it was just because they were so close. Gohan was with Goten nearly every hour of every day. He watched everything Goten did and Goten confided everything to him. It was only natural that Gohan would be able to guess what Goten was thinking sometimes.

"Trunks' supposed to be here for my birffday," Goten spoke at last. Gohan's face cracked at Goten's childlike speech. He was getting better now that Trunks was constantly correcting him- but even six months of friendship couldn't fix everything about Goten that annoyed the second sayian prince.

_"Yes. I heard,"_ said Gohan when Goten hadn't continued.

"Well…" Goten grinned looking hopefully up at Gohan. Gohan's heart shuttered at the stare. He knew the question, again. It was one he had asked so much and in so many different ways.

_"No,"_ Gohan frowned.

"Aw. Come on, Ghost!" Goten whined with the puckering of his bottom lip. "Trunks can hear you! I know he can! I want him to meet you!"

_"No. No, you don't. You just wanna prove to Trunks that I do exist so he'll stop picking on you," _said Gohan. He couldn't help but smile again. Goten had the best way of making people smile even when they didn't want to. A true angel- that was Goten.

"Yeah, well…" huffed Goten shuffling his feet about in the blanket. "He says you don't exist. And that I'm… crazy in the head… but in Spanish."

Gohan laughed but stopped at the hurt look on Goten's face. "Why don't you want other people to know you, Ghost? Mommy and Trunks and Misses Bulma dun know who you are. I'm de only one. I dun like them all telling me that you aren't real," whimpered Goten. He held tightly to a wad of Gohan's transparent jacket in hand. The same jacket he had died in.

Gohan's face softened and gently held his brother closer. His face pressed into the boy's soft hair he breathed. _"Alright. But just Trunks, and only Trunks."_

"Yay," Goten smiled triumphantly but soon fell asleep once more. Gohan watched over his sleeping kid brother with a tinge of dread in his heart.

_I really didn't want to have to show myself to Trunks_, thought Gohan. _I'm actually not quite sure how. Goten is the only one who's been able to see me so far. I would hate to scare the crap out of Trunks for Goten's sake…_

_Course_, Gohan looked back on the skies with a smile._ It could be fun too._

* * *

**S**he made sure that Goten's hand was tight in her grip. The boy had a habit of running off at inopportune moments. But in this large city the last thing a single mother needed was to lose sight of her son.

"Where are we?" said Goten, taking an interest of the towering buildings above him.

"This is the city, Goten," Chichi explained. "Trunks lives in the city and you said you wanted to have your party at his house, remember?"

"That's cause he said he had more toys than me!" Goten huffed swinging his arms in pace of his small strides. "I dun believe him."

Chichi chuckled. Little did she know that her first son was chuckling just as softly by her side. Her ear tickled- as if by a whisper, and she tugged her earlobe with her free hand.

Gohan took in the movement with slight disappointment. His dread was still mounting the closer they got to Capsule Corporation. How in the world was he going to show himself to Trunks without causing a scene?

Gohan had originally hoped Goten would forget his little promise. He wasn't that lucky. Goten had reminded him, almost every hour after the promise was made, that he had to uphold it. Gohan had no choice.

"I'm hungry, Mommy," whined Goten pulling gently on his mother's arm.

"We'll be there soon, sweetheart."

"I'm hungry now, Mommy."

Gohan heard his former mother let out a sigh and watched her look around her surroundings for the nearest fast food place. The demi sayian inhaled deeply the smell of a fresh brook- the smell that always surrounded his family. Goten was excited. Gohan could feel the excitement bubbling against his own emotions nearly forcing them out.

_"You shouldn't complain so much, Goten,"_ Gohan found himself saying.

Goten looked over his shoulder at Gohan and looked like it was going to reply. Instead he bit his tongue and nodded.

"It's okay, Mom. I'm not so hungry." His stomach betrayed him with an angry growl. Chichi only sighed again, resuming the search.

Goten shrugged over at his guardian and Gohan only chuckled. They boy was sayian. There was no helping that trait.

_"Interesting,"_ a bodiless voice suddenly spoke up from somewhere behind Gohan.

Gohan whirled about, seeing an old stereotypically sound version of a homeless man sitting on the old park bench a few feet away. He was hunched over but only momentarily. He straightened up as Gohan turned, but Gohan didn't take that as recognition. That is he didn't until the man tilted his hat and winked at him.

Gohan's would-be heart was racing. He looked wildly around back at Goten, who seemed to have taken interest in the park bench too.

"How about pizza, Goten?" Chichi asked unbeknownst to it all. "That sound good?"

Goten didn't answer and Gohan had to nod to him to get his attention. He 'uh-huh'ed a weak reply but looked curiously to Gohan when his mother started pulling him away.

_"I'll be right here, Goten, okay?"_ Gohan muttered, his eyes falling back on the man, _"Come back and get me, okay?"_

The strain on Gohan's chest lessened. Goten reeled out the leash that he had bound to Gohan. He had learned how to a few years back when he was having an argument with Gohan- who, at the time, was trying to get him to eat Mom's meatloaf. And now an expert at it, he could get almost two hundred yards away without Gohan even beginning to feel the strain.

Once Gohan felt Goten was far enough distance away, he took a deep breath and moved forward. The man watched his whole path with his eyes not moving from his bench at all.

"_What's interesting, sir?_" Gohan asked loudly- still not convinced the man could detect his presence.

The man smiled but did not respond. His reaction, or lack there of, caused Gohan to relax again. But it was to be short-lived.

_"That boy can see you. That's what's interesting. Kids usually lose their Sight a year or so after their birth."_

Gohan stopped dead, no pun intended. He pointed a shaky finger to his face, _"You can see me?"_

_"Of course," _The old man shifted slightly in his seat and smiled. _"You must not get out much. You never seen another Fixated Ghost before?"_

_"Fixated?"_ Gohan repeated dully. He then shook his head in an attempt to wake himself from whatever dream this was. It didn't work of course.

Gohan looked at the old man in a new light and tried again. _"You're a ghost too?"_

_"What did you think you were the only one?"_ laughed the old man.

_"Kind of, yeah,"_ Gohan replied rubbing the back of his neck. _"I hadn't ever seen any other ghosts before."_

_"We are sort of rare, us fixated ones."_ The old man's face wrinkled into a deep frown. Gohan took this moment to take the seat next to him.

_"What do you mean by fixated?"_ Gohan asked curiously getting strangely more comfortable on this park bench than any other bench he had ever sat on before.

_"Well,"_ the old man smiled rubbing the side of his face sleepily. _"Fixated ghosts are the ones that don't want to pass to the other side. Regret or something or another keeps them here. Didn't you know why you stayed?"_

_"No one came to get me,"_ Gohan muttered glumly.

_"That's strange,"_ the old man paused and then looked up at Gohan again, _"My name is Shanks by the way."_

He held out a transparent hand. Gohan happily took it. _"I'm… I'm…"_ He took his hand away to think but only drew a blank. Gohan's face suddenly contorted into one of horror. _"I don't remember! I don't remember my name!"_

Shanks' laughter strangely eased Gohan's panic. _"I don't remember mine either, kid. It's just the name of the street corner up there. So that's what I decided to call myself."_

Gohan smiled and looked wearily at the street sign. Sure enough it said in big white letters, Shank Street. He looked back at Shanks and with a modest smile he shyly said, _"Goten calls me Ghost."_

_"Ghost. Alright,"_ The old man tapped his head knowingly. _"I'll remember."_

Gohan doubted it but he didn't dare say so. Instead his eyes fell back upon the bench. _"Did you die here, sir?"_

Shanks shifted comfortably back into the bench resting his feet on an imaginary support in the air. Gohan watched in admiration.

_"I think so,"_ He replied his eyes steadily on the distant sky. _"I remember falling asleep. Nice dream. Mmmmm."_ He blinked and looked back upon Gohan.

_"How'd you die? You're awfully young, aint ya? You catch a cold?"_

Gohan blushed feriously and shook his head. When the old man's eyes didn't leave him, Gohan quickly lied by saying he didn't remember how he died either. Of course he did remember. It was hard to forget- when you killed yourself.

The man seemed to accept Gohan's response with grace and made no attempt to pursue the subject. Instead he looked back at the sky again.

_"I could have gone…"_ He said vaguely. _"Sometimes I wish I did, when it gets lonely. But- this life was all I had known and- and I was scared."_

_"Scared?"_ Gohan frowned.

_"Yeah. When you make the choice to stay, it's pretty permanent,"_ The old man hooked his arms behind his head, grinning buoyantly up at the skies as if something was there grinning back. _"They may send someone down every now and then to persuade you to leave but- they don't try hard."_

Gohan frowned and looked down at the ground, for once in a long while feeling the painful pangs of abandonment.

_"Why didn't they ever come to get me?"_

Shanks seemed to have smelt Gohan's pain- that gawd-awful smell of fresh blood. Gohan almost felt bad for resonating it.

The hermit of sorts gripped the boy's shoulder and squeezed. _"Maybe they did, and you just forgot,"_ said he simply.

Gohan closed his eyes, held his breath, and nodded. He wanted to crawl up inside himself and cry cause he knew for a fact- it was impossible. He would have remembered if someone had come to get him.

He would have gone.

* * *

**G**oten didn't ask about the old man when he came back- even though he shared a wave with Shanks before they headed off. Gohan wasn't in much of a mood to talk after that.

Capsule Corp was exactly like Gohan remembered it those six years ago he was last here. It had been even longer since he had been here alive. But the smells and look to it was all the same.

Chichi joined Bulma and her mother in the kitchen. Vegeta had disappeared in his personal gravity chamber. Grandpa Briefs was in his lab with his cat. Everything was exactly the same. It was almost sickening.

It seemed that the pizza had made Goten a bit forgetful. He ran about with Trunks for quite some time without even remembering to ask _Ghost_ along. Gohan was all right with that though. Instead he stayed by his mother's side making sure to stay nearby in case Goten called.

Goten had only Trunks as a friend so the party was fairly small. Krillen had showed up with his and No. 18's daughter that Gohan had never seen before. Her name was Marron. She was younger than both Trunks and Goten but she seemed to have no extraordinary abilities to her. A blonde with pigtails, her blue eyes never even flickered in Gohan's direction.

She seemed to have taken quite a fancy to Trunks though. Marron would hardly leave the boy alone. Finally after cake and before presents, Krillen took Marron in for her nap and the boys got to be alone.

Goten took his chance and pulled Gohan into the room. Gohan's stomach squirmed as he entered. Goten was watching him- making sure he was coming. Trunks didn't see him though.

"Trunks!" Goten announced. "I'm gonna prove to you that Ghost is real."

Trunks snorted in response and took a seat on the nicely carpeted floor. "Alright. Show me. And no more throwing your voice," He pointed an accusing finger at Goten. "My dad told me about that trick."

Goten probably had no clue what throwing your voice was so he, did what he naturally did when he didn't understand, ignored it. Instead he turned his full attention to Gohan. He threw out his fist to Gohan as if releasing a baseball of visibility to his being.

"Okay, Ghost! Show yourself!"

Gohan smiled weakly and looked with silent hope over at Trunks. Trunks didn't look his way.

"Can you see him?"

"I can see a blockhead," Trunks replied cockily.

"What's a blockhead?" asked Goten naively and Trunks only shook his head in response.

Gohan bit his lip and tried to clear his head. But all that he could think was that this was impossible and pointless to try.

Maybe I should have asked Shanks if he knew how to make yourself visible, Gohan thought sadly. I should have. Ah, thoughtless.

He smacked his head and shortly afterwards felt Goten tugging at his pant leg.

"You aren't trying Ghost. Come on!" Goten pouted softly.

Gohan closed his eyes and tried to concentration.

_Be visible_, he told himself. _Visible. Let Trunks see me!_

When he opened his eyes, Trunks was still playing with lose burrs in the carpet floor. Goten was close to tears.

"Ghost! Stop being mean! Show Trunks! Show him!" He tried to punch Gohan in the leg but the demi sayian instinctively caught his hand.

_"Goten! Don't hit me,"_ said Gohan sternly.

"Why! You can't feel it!" Goten cried angrily, "You're _just a_ ghost."

Gohan's heart caught fire and crashed somewhere down in the pits of his stomach. He just stared remorsefully at Goten's hand that was still in his grip. But his sorrow was suddenly cut short by a sharp gasp across the room.

"Holy shit."

Gohan and Goten both looked over Trunks who was looking back towards them terrified. But he wasn't looking at Goten as much as he was looking at _Ghost_.

"Holy shiiii--," He said once more before promptly passing out on the living room floor.

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please R&R!

Well, I really liked this chapter just because of Trunks. You can probably see why.

Anyway this is for Skadu so she won't haunt me.

Sorry for taking so long again. Please review. Your patronage is much appreciated.


	7. Belofte

**Still Here**

**Disclaimers**: Ho Hum. How should I put this? Dbz, how shall I own thee? Never! Never! Never! Verbal Tear Poetic enough for you?

Oh gawd, it's been forever and a day. I had a doc set up and ready for the next chapter for months, with nothing in it at all. It wasn't until I decided ultimately that the ending of this story had to be reached- because of its unusual flair that I've decided I have to continue.

Okay. I've kind of given up on the whole guess the word thing. Because I keep forgetting what the word means. I had to go look up this word again because I don't remember what it is. It's supposed to be Dutch.

Yay. I looked it up and remember it now. Okay the chapter title works so I shall continue then.

Thanks to all who stuck with me and all that.

Oh and contrary to popular belief, I am a girl. A female author. Just thought I'd let you all know.

LAST TIME ON STILL HERE  
_"No way, Goten. There's no way I'd leave you."_  
It was one he had asked so much and in so many different ways.  
"Trunks can hear you! I know he can! I want him to meet you!"  
_"You can see me?"_  
_"….You never seen another Fixated Ghost before?"  
"My name is Shanks by the way."_  
_"Goten calls me Ghost."_  
_"How'd you die? You're awfully young, aint ya?..."_  
It was hard to forget- when you killed yourself.  
He would have remembered if someone had come to get him.  
"You're _just a_ ghost."

* * *

**Chapter Seven**: Belofte 

From compromise and things half done,  
Keep me with stern and stubborn pride,  
And when at last the fight is won,  
God, keep me still unsatisfied.  
-Louis Untermeyer

**F**eathers fell lovingly from the sky- presents from the birds as they violently fought above the demi sayian's head. Apathetically, Gohan watched as the creatures tore at themselves. For what he wasn't sure. He had never seen birds be so violent.

They were already blood red color- cardinals of the male descent. Gohan could see no change in their body as they flaunted about above- twittering shrilly at eachother.

_"Nothing's beautiful, huh?"_ Gohan said somewhat sardonically while leaning his chin against his palm.

Their obnoxious squalling escalated until one solidly ran into the basin of the bird bath. It laid in the shallow water, darkening the shadows with blood. Gohan found himself indifferent to the entire spectacle. The other bird hovered momentarily, before it too came down to the bird bath. The hybrid's eyebrows rose in interest as the bird drunk heavily from the contaminated water.

"Ghost?" came the quiet voice from the doorway.

Gohan turned just as Goten silently shut the glass door behind him. His soft socked feet padded along the wooden deck as the little boy came to join his once brother.

Without saying a word, Goten slipped to his knees, kicking his feet off over the side of the deck just like Gohan. He sat silently at Gohan's side for only a moment more before Gohan decided to break the silence.

_"How's Trunks?"_

"He's fine," came Goten's meek reply. "Mum says he woke up… Miss Bulma is getting him to stop saying bad words."

_"Hm. Good,"_ said Gohan. His eyes were still on the bird bath. He could feel Goten's sadness welling up in his chest the longer the silence brew. Gohan knew it wouldn't be long before the child began to cry.

_"Goten, it-…"_

"It's all my fault," interrupted Goten, clutching his kneecaps with his tiny hands. "I shouldn't have tried to make you..."

_"It's okay, Goten,"_ assured Gohan softly.

His transparent hand touched Goten's shoulder- as if to induce a sort of comfort. But there was no surge like before- like when Goten had tried to hurt him. Instead, Goten flinched, wincing at Gohan's unreal touch. So Gohan pulled away.

He pushed his hands deep into his lap, fighting against his own combating feelings inside. Biting his lip, Gohan ultimately decided that if Goten wasn't happy- then he wouldn't be happy either. So Gohan fashioned up his best fake smile and cast it over at his little companion.

_"No harm done."_

Goten looked up at the misted teen at his side and smiled back in return. His smile proved more genuine. After all, he had never had to fake them before. He didn't know how- not yet. But one of these days, Gohan speculated. He hoped he was never around when Goten learned his own brother's antics.

"Well," Goten said, looking lazily up at the afternoon sky when tucking his arms behind his head. "I suppose invisible people are supposed to stay invisible."

Gohan nodded somewhat silently in agreement, pulling his knees against his chest- his chin on his kneecaps.

Goten fell back, laying back innocently and staring transfixed at the huge wide horizon above him. Gohan assumed Goten must see so much in that sky. But for him, the sky was nothing more than a memory of something that forgot about him. Gohan looked quietly over at his brother and smiled again- softer than before.

"Hey, Ghost," Goten grinned, still staring up at the sky. "Do you want to scare them again?"

Gohan's smile fell. _"Goten-…"_

"I'm just kidding," chuckled Goten, rolling back over to his side so he could see Gohan better. He sent another smile up at his brother, sending a shiver up Gohan's spine.

And why was that?

There were noises on the other side of the glass door. Goten and Gohan's head both turned instinctively in the direction of the sound. Shadows danced beyond the glass- accompanied by soft voices, calling Goten's name.

Name. He used to have one too, didn't he?

Gohan temporarily closed his eyes- taking in the moment. It had been so long since he had heard his own name. He was slowly starting to wonder if he really had one anymore.

"Come on, Ghost," came Goten's chipper voice from beyond his eyelids- or whatever tangible form his eyesight was now.

Goten had scrambled to his feet, sunlight brushing his cheeks kindly as he thrust out his hand out for Gohan to take. Gohan smiled as well, his hand merely brushing through Goten's as he came to his feet. Goten was always amused with the tingly feeling he got when Gohan's hand refused to be solid.

Grinning childishly, Goten pushed open the glass door, calling out into the darkness- acknowledging his presence. Hands, happy hands, hugged him and pulled him back into his family. Something about the birthday cake.

Everything seemed so gray to him now. Cold and indifferent. Despite Goten's excited feelings that bubbled so fully in Gohan's chest- Gohan couldn't help but feel unlike himself. He felt like he was being pulled away- fading into a memory of sorts. And it scared him.

Was he prepared to disappear? Was he really ready to make such a sacrifice for this little brother of his?

Something tickled the back of Gohan's mind. It was like a finger softly running down his spine. And Gohan turned, just to see something flowing, silky white- spilling out over the basin of the bird bath. Gohan could see the outlines of the basin through its frosted skin. A spirit perhaps?

Gohan stared at it a moment more before the tug from Goten's leash pulled him away. Shanks had said there were many spirits in this word- fixated. That he wasn't entirely alone in his misery. It was this knowledge that caused Gohan to swallow the experience away. He thought nothing more of his fellow ghost. Instead he went back to doing what he vowed to do.

Goten was calling.

* * *

**T**he very air seemed to breathe the words of the happy song. Smiles were pulling up at every lip as every eye remained fixated on the sugary centerpiece. The glow from the candles, dripping wax onto the soft icing, gently illuminated Goten's round face- his watery beetle black eyes gleaming with anticipation. 

The song was slowly coming to a close, having reached its climax. Gohan was watching, indifferent to everything but the building excitement filling his chest- compliments of his young brother. Goten was inhaling- something Gohan had been unable to do for the past five years or so now.

Perhaps Gohan had been expecting it. He really couldn't recall ever formulating such a idea in his head it might occur. But when Goten reached back to grab hold of Gohan's hand, Gohan moved- instinctively. Merely brushing fingertips with his younger brother, Gohan felt the familiar spark, that had surged visibility into him before, again.

Something rushed up his chest- a numbing feeling that seem to burn like acid through the center of his being. It rushed up to his face, pulling limply at his lips, and bringing upon the young ghost a feeling of immense helplessness.

It was as soon as this feeling had overtaken him that Goten fell out of his chair. His hand slipped through Gohan's and hit the floor along with the rest of his body. Head tucked up into his tensed shoulders, mouth wide open and eyes showing their milky whites.

Gohan's former mother screamed.

The ghost went completely unnoticed- unseen once more as Goten lay unconscious on the floor. His left cheek was pressed into the carpet, breath slipping out of him quietly. And Gohan stood helplessly on the sidelines- bewildered and confused. He watched as the group of people who happened to be mere happy party-goers before transformed into a mass of panicky monsters.

They were calling his brother's name. They shook Goten but he didn't respond. Not at all. Gohan found himself having trouble breathing. Was it from Goten? Or was it his own tangible form wrestling with the emotions bubbling inside him?

_"Goten,"_ Gohan sputtered helplessly, watching as Chichi hugged the small boy to her chest. He wasn't breathing still. He wasn't listening.

Gohan's mind was spinning- reeling. He couldn't think, couldn't even begin to comprehend what had happened. Had it been Gohan's wish not to be visible? Had it merely been the task itself? Or was Goten sick for another reason? Gohan didn't know.

And yet it had all been in vain.

Krillen pulled Chichi away. There were tears pouring down her face. Gohan couldn't look at her. Not that she noticed.

Bulma had begun a practice of CPR. She pressed up and down of his chest, checked his breath, pushed her own air into him, and pressed up and down again. This seemingly endless game- with an almost pointless effort. Had Goten left him too?

Gohan found the rancid smell of blood ripping at the inside of his would be nostrils. He pressed his forefingers against his nose, pressing harder trying to duck away from the horrible yet all encompassing smell. It would not leave him alone.

And yet the ghost could do nothing- time passing without him. How slowly it seemed to go. How long Goten seemed to no longer breathe.

_"Don't,"_ Gohan whispered, fingers moving and pressing now against his lips. As if he wasn't quite sure he was actually speaking. _"D-Don't leave."_

Tears began, splashing down his nonexisting cheeks. And his voice came out stronger, in a scream- a shout, "_Take me with you, Goten!_"

He hit his knees. The carpet left no burns- left no feeling of impact.

Goten inhaled the instant afterwards. The room sagged with relief- Chichi was laughing nervously through her tears, pulling the awake child against her. Goten didn't even get the chance to ask what was going on. He was engulfed in love, and joy. He was alive.

Gohan swallowed his disappointment. It disgusted him but yet he couldn't push it away. He sat on his legs, faking a smile while the others in the room embraced his younger brother. If he couldn't get rid of his jealously, he could at least mask it. No one could see a bleeding heart- unless they were a ghost.

And Gohan didn't even notice him approach- until he had sat down along side him.

"You're Gohan, aren't you?"

Gohan whipped around, seeing the bright blue eyes- that had been so wide with fear before- staring directly at him without any sign of their previous hesitation.

"I remember you," Trunks said rather meekly, averting his eyes so not to appear as crazy as Goten often did when talking with the dead sayian. "from the photo albums. You died when I was little."

He paused, staring somewhat awkwardly at his hands, "You held me once."

Gohan stared at the young boy- his face a betrayal to his emotions. His heart both soared and plummented. Did Trunks know how he had died?

If he did or didn't, Gohan didn't get the chance to find out.

Suddenly the atmosphere tensed, filling with something unmistakable. The sour odor of onions burning through the stink of blood. The boy was suddenly very angry.

"Don't do that again," said Trunks sharply, out of the corner of his mouth so as not to let the others see. "You hurt him."

His face was dark as he spoke, obviously placing the blame on the ghost. He didn't know it was Goten who wanted it. But it didn't matter anyway- and Gohan wasn't about to defend himself anyway. He wasn't one to place blame on others.

With that said, Trunks stood and walked away from him. He didn't go over to Goten, like Gohan assumed he would, but instead went to his father- the Sayian Prince who had watched the scene indifferently from the corner of the room. Vegeta wasn't looking at Trunks and Trunks wasn't looking at him. They seemed to share a mutual acceptance of each other's presence. Trunks leaned up against the wall, just like Vegeta, and scanned the room.

His eyes never again met with Gohan's- nor did they even remotely recognize him. And Gohan found, for some odd reason, a smile on his own face.

Trunks remembered him. And now… he remembered his name.

His name was Gohan.

It was like a familiar ache had surged through him- one he could never quite explain but recognized it at first taste. And as much of a burden it gave him, it brought a comfort as well. He had existed. He was real. He had been alive… once.

"Ghost?"

Gohan tried not to turn, but his body reacted on impulse. He tried not to go to Goten, when Goten pulled on his leash from his mother's arms. Gohan wanted to live just a while longer in the moment of his name. Trunks had reawaken a part of himself he had lost in his death. That name- he really loved that name.

But Goten was calling. Why did he have to be so cute, anyway? Gohan just couldn't help himself.

Goten still needed him.

* * *

**G**oten was bedridden for the next several days. It was almost as if the energy had been pulled out of him. Sucked out of his little body- feeding to Gohan's visibility. Gohan regretted not moving sooner- seeing the "birthday boy" this way was disheartening. 

He slept most of the time. Gohan watched over him obediently, hovering or standing nearby just in case the child woke and called for him. For Ghost.

And for the first time in years, Gohan pondered about his past life. Not only of the past, but of the present and the future. Should he tell Goten who he was? Goten, for so long, always considered Gohan a close and secret friend. An imaginary plaything. Was he old enough to tell the truth? To tell Goten that they were related? That Goten was his little brother at one very brief time?

Gohan cringed at the thought of the questions that might rise from such imparted knowledge. Goten would inevitably want to know how Gohan came to be like this. How had he died? Why did he stay while Goten's nonexistent father remained out of his eyesight?

Should Gohan lie? Should Gohan tell the truth? Or should he just keep the charade up- and relinquish his old name.

Regretfully Gohan realized he missed himself. He missed remembering things and knowing about himself. He had died to forget and now in death he wanted to remember. How twisted irony could be.

A soft moan interrupted Gohan's thoughts. Blinking, soft ebony eyes turned upwards to him, still wet with sleep. Goten smiled and mouthed his name- the name that Goten had given him.

"Ghost."

How proud Goten looked when he came up with that name. Every time he uttered it, brought joy to his childish pride. How willing Gohan had accepted it. Why now did he want to be rid of it? What had changed? What was wrong with him? Had Gohan forgotten why he wanted to die?

Goten could tell that Gohan was disturbed. Gently, perhaps immitating the soft cooing his mother had given him when he himself was ill, Goten softly asked, "What's wrong?"

Gohan made a noise in his throat- as if to answer him. But he thought better of it. Smiling, he shook his head and replied, _"Nothing, Goten."_

"Don't worry. I be better soon," Goten chirped, misinterpreting his expression for one of concern. "We can play tomorrow, for sure."

Gohan sighed deeply, leaning back against the wall at the foot of Goten's bed. He looked out the window, softly recognizing the view from his reawakened memories. His desk used to sit where Goten's bed was. He looked out from this window all too often when alive.

Goten was looking out the window too, but with a less nostalgic look in his eyes. He must have longed to play- stuck in his room for so long without the energy to protest.

_"Goten,"_ Gohan said softly, causing the young boy's eyes to fall back upon him again._ "Do you know why you got sick?"_

Goten bit his lip and lowered his eyes. He knew.

"It's because I was bad, and tried to- show you again."

_"Yes, that's what I thought too,"_ said Gohan his eyes trailing back to the window. He didn't intend to seem so nonchanlant. But Goten interpted his silence as such- and it made him flush even more.

"I promise I won't do it again," Goten said hastily. "I won't make you visible ever again. Please don't be mad."

And Gohan couldn't help but crack a smile. How strange it was for such an innocent remark to cut him so deep. Did he really want to be invisible? Would he be willing to harm Goten for a life again?

No, Gohan decided. He was dead, Goten was not. Goten deserved all the life he could get. And Gohan had his chance.

Gohan looked over to his brother's wistful expression. And then, taking the boy's hands in his own, Gohan spoke, _"I could never be mad at you, Goten."_

Goten blinked back his tears, and smiled. It wasn't as weak a smile as Gohan's.

_"I promise not to let you, either. I wouldn't want to do anything that hurts Goten. That alright?"_ Gohan cast the boy a half smile that the child returned all too eagerly.

"Yeah. No more invisible becoming visible. This time, a promise." Goten held out his pinky- to seal it. Gohan couldn't help but feel he was reliquishing himself when wrapping his own transparent pinky around Goten's flesh one.

"Will you be here… forever?" Goten whispered, as if afraid the question might cause him to leave right then.

Gohan smiled. It was inevitable. _"I said I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. I'll be here forever. That's a promise."_

Goten flashed him a broad smile. And something in Gohan died again.

No, he wouldn't tell Goten his name.

He had a promise to keep.

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please R & R!

Agggh. That took forever. I'm so sorry for the wait once again. It's hard being inspired to write in something you no longer have a craze in. And this chapter was hard to write, just being what it was about. It's hard to write the conflicting emotions that Gohan must have been feeling when Goten passed out. It took me forever to become satisfied with it.

Thank you **Skadu** for the last minute beta! This update is for her.

Any way, I hope, whatever fans I still have left, enjoyed this chapter. It's covered with my sweat and blood, literally.

Okay, way back when- a couple of people reviewed the last chapter, Mr. Snuffles, rimera, Skadu, Twixy, …, dfd, Samara-chan, Kayla, Ipgohanfanatic, Small Chemist, Drek Rak'stom, and J70078. Thank you all for the reviews- even if half of them were somewhat on the threatening side. lol.

I'm so sorry for the wait. Hopefully it won't be as long next time.


	8. Vuelo

**Still Here**

**Disclaimers**: Ho Hum. How should I put this? Dbz, how shall I own thee? Never! Never! Never! Verbal Tear Poetic enough for you?

It's been awhile. I'll spare you the boring details and just let you know I was busy. Onward then.

To catch up with the chapters before. The german word Freundschaft was Friendship. The hungarian word Azonos meant Equal/Identical. Last time's chapter was the dutch word Belofte meaning- Promise. Spanish title this time.

LAST TIME ON STILL HERE  
"Nothing's beautiful, huh?"  
Was he prepared to disappear?  
They shook Goten but he didn't respond.  
"_Take me with you, Goten!_"  
Gohan swallowed his disappointment.  
"You held me once."  
His name was Gohan.  
Goten still needed him.  
"I won't make you visible ever again. Please don't be mad."  
_"I said I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. I'll be here forever. That's a promise."_

* * *

**Chapter Eight**: Vuelo

"When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return."  
-Leonardo DaVinci

**"B**ut that's not fair!" Goten wailed as loud as he possibly could. His shrieks and bellowing yells of complaints could probably be heard all throughout the valley they lived in. At seven years old, Goten was very good at projecting his voice.

Thick crocodile tears swept down his cheeks as Goten made leaping grasps into the air futilely. Trunks still hung out of his reach, dangling the crimson rubber ball tauntingly above the younger boy's head. Trunks laughed almost maniacally at his best friend's helplessness. Ever since he himself had learned out to fly, he loved to rub it in Goten's face in any way possible. Usually it was with tormenting him.

"Give it back! It's my ball! I want it! Now! Trunks! Give it!" screamed Goten angrily, his face red with the effort.

"And I told you," said Trunks a matter of factly. "You can get it when grow tall enough to take it from me."

Smiling cockily, Trunks almost didn't notice the ball edge out of his grip. He made a grab for it as it fell, hands slipping around it like it were suddenly made of butter. It landed right into Goten's outreached arms.

His hands clapped around the ball instantly. Goten then preceded to swing himself and the ball around a few good times before sending a nasty sort of smirk the lavender haired boy's way. Trunks landed with a huff, casting an expecting glare into the air around him.

"That's not fair- helping him, Ghost."

_"You weren't exactly spreading fairness around, yourself, Trunks,_" came the scolding voice of Goten's former brother.

He appeared suddenly at Trunks' side, smiling, in a halo of light colors- a faded version of the person he once was. Trunks' height managed to reach up Ghost's intangible shoulder now. Time did not pass for someone who did not live.

"Thank you, Ghost," said Goten with a bright smile from behind his rubber ball.

Ghost returned the greeting with a nod of his head. Ghost didn't speak if he could help it. He mostly liked watching. Watching and protecting Goten seemed to be all he ever did.

Trunks tossed his head away from the invisible person. He ran an expectant hand through his light colored hair indifferently, casting a warily glance at the horizon. It was no secret that Trunks didn't like to admit he could see Ghost too.

"It's getting late," he said absentmindedly.

The sky had indeed taken a pinkish tint without the immediate presence of the sun. The cold of the evening was starting to sink in upon them. Fog had begun to slink around the forest trees, coating the whole area in a sense of still apprehension. The two boys shivered ever so slightly.

"_Um,_" Ghost agreed, completely unaffected by the chill. "_Ikimasho._"

He turned and Goten skipped ahead, taking the nonexistent person by the hand. He dragged the Ghost behind him, grinning like the carefree idiot he was. Trunks observed this all from the sidelines bitterly.

They weren't really holding hands. Ghost was intangible. Goten was really just pulling him with some sort of magic. Perhaps there was a cord drawn between them because they shared the same blood. Trunks often mused over it but could never accurately pinpoint what the two brothers shared. All he knew was that they weren't holding hands. They hadn't for two years now.

That time, it had hurt Goten. But at the same time it made Ghost into something he shouldn't be. Alive. Or at least some form of living. He was visible and in a fleshy sort of form- solid and touchable. Trunks watched it happen twice. And never could he explain it more than it just being magic. Very bizarre and dark magic.

It was nothing like flying. It wasn't suppose to be, Trunks was sure. So he was around to make sure he didn't happen again.

"Ghost can fly. Ghost can teach me to fly," Goten said suddenly snapping Trunks' thoughts in two.

Ghost said nothing. He just bobbed along pointlessly behind Goten, not really walking but not really floating either.

"He can't," huffed Trunks. Goten ignored him.

"Please, Ghost?"

_"But I am afraid I can't,"_ Ghost said gently. Goten dropped his hand- leaving Ghost just to fall through the young boy's flesh. It wasn't pleasant. For Ghost, the sensation was numbing. Goten hardly noticed.

He craned his head behind him to where now Ghost stood as if it were perfectly normal for a being to pass through another being. "Why not?"

_"It's not the same for us,"_ Ghost tried to explain.

"What do'ya mean?"

Ghost didn't know what he meant.

"You need a Dad to teach you to fly," said Trunks causally stick out his tongue when passing the two by. "You don't and never will have one."

Goten stuck his tongue out in response. Then he looked back up to Ghost. "That's not true, right?"

For some reason Ghost looked terribly guilty. His eyes glowed an indiscernible emotion and then he turned away.

And all the walk back Goten tried to figure out where he could get a Dad.

They made it back to house without a single incident. Bulma had not left for the helicopter yet. That gave the boys a few more minutes to play. But at this point, neither were much in the mood.

Trunks took the time to show off how well he could control his body in the air leaving Goten just to watch jealously from the ground below. Goten watched for as long as he could. But it was hard to keep in good spirits when your friend was obviously showing off.

Deviously, Goten leapt upon Ghost. There was no impact for Ghost since he had no body to feel it. For Goten it was like leaping upon an updraft of chi. It repelled him like a physical form might while at the same time Goten could fall right through it. It took balance and practice for Goten not to fall through his brother.

Goten fastened his legs around Ghost's shoulders and swung his arms out in front of him like he was swimming laps.

"See! Look Trunks!" Goten shouted. "I'm flying too!"

Trunks paused his aerial stunts for a look. He was rather unimpressed, rolling his eyes, as a means to show how very _not_ fooled he was. Ghost just laughed, spinning his brother around a few times for good measure. Goten was more clever than Trunks gave him credit for.

It was unfortunately then when the two women took exit from the house. For Bulma, it was a normal and almost inviting sight to see both boys airborne. For Chichi it was quite the opposite.

She stood frozen by the doorframe, completely oblivious to Bulma's attempts at a goodbye. And then suddenly she pushed roughly past the woman, racing as fast as she could carry herself to her son hanging in the air.

She looked scary to Goten who thought he was in trouble. Her eyes were streaming of tears, and her voice was hysterical.

"No! No- Not you! Not you too!" She plucked him from Ghost's shoulders- ignorant of him completely. "I refuse! You can't become them!"

"Chichi…" said Bulma quietly, coming to a loss of words.

Goten tried to say something but Chichi wouldn't let him. She pressed him in such a tight hug against her that he could barely breathe. It was as if she wanted to melt him back inside herself- where he was safe.

"I won't lose you to that- that _evil_ world," she sobbed, her shoulders convulsing with her grief. Goten gave up trying to wrench himself free. Instead he just lay against her, listening to her heart beating against his ear.

Ghost just was. He was standing only feet from a mother he, himself, should be consoling. Ghost wasn't sure how he could forgive himself for that.

Trunks landed. He saw the entire spectacle from above their heads. Casting a glance between the sobbing mass in front of him and the Ghost at his side, Trunks started to say something.

"But that's got nothing to do with what happened to Goh…"

Trunks didn't finish. His mother had cut him off with a harsh slap across the face.

Chichi had looked up, loosening her grip on Goten, so as to see what caused the sharp sound. Goten whipped his head around and saw something he himself had never seen Trunks doing.

Trunks had tears rolling down his cheeks. His face was bright red from where she had slapped despite how his hands tried to hide it.

"W-Wh… Mommy, why…?" Trunks sputtered from behind his hands.

"Keep your mouth shut," said Bulma coldly. "You know better than to talk that way."

Trunks shot his gaze around wildly, looking for some sense of sympathy. He got none. Even Goten was too shocked to see his friend crying to offer anything in return. Trunks set his eyes on the Ghost instead. Ghost wore no expression.

"This is all your fault!" He shouted at the air behind their heads. "I hate you! Why the hell don't you just go away! You aren't helping anyone! _You're not even here!!_"

Trunks whirled around so sharply that tears fell in his wake. Bulma followed suit, strictly guiding him back to the helicopter. No longer was Trunks in any mood to fly. He didn't once look back.

Goten did though. He met Ghost's eyes, surprised to see that Trunks wasn't the only one crying.

"Don't worry," Goten whispered so that his mother wouldn't overhear. "You're here."

_"No,"_ smiled Ghost through the invisible tears. _"No, I'm not."_

A tiny hand was wrapped around Ghost's invisible one. Ghost squeezed this hand as if gently as if afraid he might crush it.

Ghost seemed tentative, as if suddenly terrified of action, as if he were deserving of a slap himself. His eyes were so sad- so full of guilt and blame. Goten felt naked and alone in their empty stare.

"Don't cry," said Goten softly. "If you cry, it will make me cry too."

Chichi mistook the direction of his words.

"I'm sorry Goten. I won't cry," she said adopting a stronger voice. She had wiped her tears away and moved instead to hold his hand. Her hand pushed Ghost's away. And Ghost fell away from them both.

He rubbed his face furiously but was unable to remove the tears from his eyes. He was intangible. Both he and those tears didn't exist at all. He tried to be brave for Goten but it was difficult. He wasn't quite sure how to be anymore.

Goten sent a weak smile through the crook of his mother's arm. He leaned into her embrace when the helicopter pressed roughly into the air. He was still looking towards Ghost as his mother pulled him away from the slicing winds. Hair wiping across their faces, Chichi pulled Goten into the safety of her arms. Ghost remained outside them, in a windless void.

Goten watched Ghost's face as the helicopter drifted farther away. His hair never moved at all, did it?

* * *

"Trunks hates me," Goten muttered softly falling back with a light thud onto his mattress. 

_"He doesn't hate you, Goten."_

"But he wont talk to me anymore. And he won't come over."

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed, "Miss Bulma made him get on the phone… I could hear him breathing- but he just won't talk."

Goten rolled from his back onto his belly. He looked lazily at his plain pillows for a moment or two before smashing his face into them. "'e 'ates me."

_"He's probably just upset. Give him time."_

"Mou 'aid 'dat malready, Mhost," groaned Goten, the innards of the pillow muffing his words. "'Ts 'een moo 'eeks."

_"You gotta learn some patience, Goten."_

Goten pushed his face out from the side of the pillow so that he could see clearly the person standing at the foot of his bed. Or at least as clearly as one could see a ghost.

"You could teach me to fly. Then I could go out to see him."

Ghost frowned as best as he remembered how. _"Goten…"_

"Come on, Ghost."

_"Goten, you know full well how I feel about that- how your mother…" _

Goten kicked out his feet and propelled himself off the bed in one swift motion. He was completely deaf to Ghost's protests.

"Mom's just scared of heights."

_"…feels about- Goten. It's a great deal more than just heights."_

"But if I don't learn how then Trunks will be mad at me forever! You know Mom will never take us to the city just so I can apologize… Mom hates that place."

_"If you explained the situation to her she mi-"_

"It takes days to get to where Trunks lives. We don't own a helicopter. Mom hates to drive… There's no way. Just no way… Unless you teach me how to fly."

_"I can't."_

"You can't or you won't?"

_"Both. You saw your mother's face when she thought you were flying. You really want to hurt her again- for real?"_

"What do you care?" replied Goten suspiciously. "You don't even talk to mom."

_"I feel… obligated to her… for taking care of you," _said Ghost cautiously and at great length. Goten might not know what obligated meant but he wasn't stupid. He caught on to Ghost's hesitation.

"You can too teach me. Stop making up excuses."

_"It's not an excuse, Goten. I cannot teach you."_

"Why not?"

_"Because, despite whatever illusion you see me as, _I… do not… exist_!!!" _

The silence that fell over them was painful. Ghost could feel it filling his entire being- literally wishing he could have just eaten those previous emotion weighted words. Goten stood strong. It was remarkable just how grown up he looked at seven-years-old.

Finally he inhaled heavily and spoke, "Don't say that, Ghost. That's a _terrible_ thing to say."

_"We're different. God, I can't expect you to understand."_

"Then explain!"

_"You're solid. I'm not. We exist on different planes! I can't even begin to teach you…"_

"But you must have been alive at some point! You could remember, right? Ghost…?"

Ghost turned away from him for the first time.

"Ghost… Who _were_ you?"

_"Please… Don't ask me that."_

"I deserve to know!" Goten snapped back. Ghost looked back and saw the boy's red face and determined glistening, beetle black eyes. He was truly upset. For the first time, Goten saw Ghost as a stranger.

_"I can't tell you."_

Goten's face broke out into a scowl, the likes of one he had never directed towards Ghost before- never directed towards anyone before.

"Of course you can't."

With sudden purpose, Goten directed his anger on a shelf full of books. With one sweep of his hand and had throw them all across the room. Then he took all the action figurines off his desk and chucked them one by one at Ghost. As each one hit he shouted,

"You're a stupid lying coward! A stupid ghost!"

Each figurine went thoughtlessly and harmlessly through Ghost. But the insults stuck to him like darts to a dartboard. A bull's eye on every word.

"You're just scared I might have some fun without you! Well forget it! If you won't teach me, I'll teach myself!"

And without a single backhand glance, Goten was out the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

It didn't really occur to Ghost at first that the door was really no barrier between him and his brother. He was dead- no walls, doors, or objects for that matter stopped him from drifting through. But in this brief instant, Ghost forgot.

The bond that had always kept them together- momentarily repelled him. It was only there for what must have been a flicker of a second. For moment, there appeared to be an actual door cut between them.

Goten wasn't mad because he refused to teach him how to fly. Ghost knew that. Goten was mad because now he realized- he knew nothing about Ghost.

Ghost refused him. He was shielding himself behind a mask and had been the whole time Goten had known him. Goten felt suddenly as though he were betrayed and cheated out of their friendship. That's why he was mad. Ghost could feel this all faintly through the closed door.

And Ghost didn't blame him. He deserved every bit of it, he was sure.

Phasing through the wall never seemed like such a labor. There Goten was, leaning against the opposite wall with the knees pressed up into his chest, head curled down, arms wrapped around himself as if he were in threat of falling apart.

_"I'm sorry for what I said Goten."_

"I'm sorry too," said Goten between sobs. "I won't ask you to teach me if you don't want to."

_"Thank you. That means a lot to me."_

Ghost knelt down beside his friend and placed a gentle arm around him. Goten couldn't physically feel it- but he knew the presence was there. It seemed to calm him.

"I didn't mean to fight with you, Ghost. It's just-"

_"Shh, it's alright," _interrupted Ghost, gently rubbing the boy's back. _"You had every right to be angry- don't apologize."_

"Will you tell me… one day?"

Goten looked up to look his invisible friend in the eye. Ghost couldn't look away.

"It doesn't have to be today or tomorrow. I don't even care if it's a bazillion years from now… But I would like to know you, Ghost… The real you- someday."

Ghost smiled, "_I'll tell you Goten, I promise. One day, I'll tell you exactly who I am. And on that day, I'll tell you everything and anything you want to know. Just give me some time to be brave, okay?"_

"Alright." Goten smiled back. "But you should know. I doesn't matter who you really are. I'll always love you Ghost. No matter what. Nothing can change that. Nothing in the world."

_"Same to you, little guy." _

Goten had leaned against him. His adrenaline rush, having drained him, led him straight into exhaustion. He no sooner closed his eyes than had he fallen into a deep sleep.

Chichi came up the stairs not too long afterwards. Obviously her curiosity had been peaked by the strange noises. She seemed satisfied by the sight of her young child sleeping- more so that all other suspicions slipped out of her mind. With a bit more difficultly than she had when he was younger- she hefted the little boy into her arms and carried him back to his room.

Ghost pushed objects that remained unseen under her feet safely out of her way. When she turned back to the door, she was surprised by the path made out for her. But not enough so to suspect anything. She wrote every strange occurrence off as happenstance. It both pleased and disappointed Ghost.

There was no way she'd ever believe he still existed. Sometimes Ghost wondered if she even remembered him at all. He might have been dead, but he couldn't read her mind. Ghost could only hope that those sighs and glances out the window were meant for him in a way. He'd like to believe he was missed, since he couldn't remember if he was or not.

Her longing glances at her sleeping son were hard to watch. The smile that hooked her lips still seemed sad in ways he could never explain to his somehow tangible form. Was she happy now? Ghost wished he could ask her. He wished she were. He really hoped that Goten made her just as happy as him.

And when was the last time he was alive with her? All he could remember was screaming blurs and her crying face. Did he make her miserable? Was it possible that he might have done her service by dying?

But seeing the pale look on her face, Ghost could not believe it. No, there was definitely a time he didn't make her sad. And dying never brought it back.

_"I'm sorry, Mom,"_ Ghost whispered softly at her side. _"I hurt you bad, didn't I?"_

Chichi exhaled deeply. Ghost remained unseen at her side.

_"I wish I could take it back. I really do,"_ confessed Ghost to deaf ears. _"Not for myself but for you… and for Goten."_

She touched Goten's cheek and brushed the bangs away from his eyes. He slept on blissfully ignorant. Her hand went to the music box beside his bed. Two cranks and the melodically filled beeps and clicks swept the room. Once upon a time it used to belong to a different little boy not much older than Goten was now. Still scorched by the fiery stains of his suicide.

"Sleep tight, Goten," Chichi whispered just before turning out the lights.

She left them both in the tranquil melodic darkness.

* * *

**"Y**our mom wanted me to talk to you," Vegeta said rapping on the boy's door. It appeared he already discovered how to use locks at the age of eight. Quite honestly, this door could easily come down if he really wanted in. No locks of any strength could prevent that.

"I don't want to talk," came the reply.

"That's good. Neither do I."

He made way to leave but Bulma sent him a glare so swift and piercing that he had to turn back. He rapped on the door again.

"At least tell your mother you aren't mad at Goten- and we can just get on with all our lives."

"I'm not mad at Goten."

"See?" Vegeta gestured out to his wife. He probably spoke too soon.

"I'm mad at Gohan."

"What?" both Vegeta and Bulma repeated, spinning back their attention to the door.

* * *

**G**oten woke up in the middle of the night to the crack of lightening. It flashed over him, as he jolted to life, painting his terror struck features a ghostly white. Rain pounded outside like a thousand fingers drumming against windowpane.

Ghost wasn't there.

Another flash and crack of thunder brought a yelp and whimper to Goten's mouth. He hid under his covers until finally braving the silence enough to slip out again. He slipped out of bed and into his fuzzy bunny slippers. They squeaked innocently as he snuck out of the room and down the hall.

"Ghost?" Goten whispered, hoping not to wake up his mother. "Where are you? Ghost?"

The only thing to answer him was another ear splitting crack of thunder. Goten bit his tongue this time around. His eyes were welling as the moment passed. He still stood alone in the empty hallway. There was no sign of Ghost anywhere.

Worried, Goten wandered into the living room, cautiously dodging somewhat unseen furniture that lay in his path. The living room provided no more reprieve than the hallway. Goten continued onward.

He might be at the tree, Goten thought to himself. Ghost likes that tree.

With a certain surge of bravery, perhaps spurred on by the fear of being separated from his friend, Goten unlocked the front door. He opened the door nearly being swung backwards by the sudden blast of stormy winds. Water sprayed his face through the screen door. It took more courage to open the last barrier and step out into the dangerous place beyond.

His feet sunk into the mud as he stepped out. The screen door swung shut loudly behind him. He took no time worry about it. Consumed with his own terrified thoughts, Goten fought back the vicious winds and rains to reach his and Ghost's tree.

Climbing up the hill on his hands and knees proved difficult. His pajamas clung to him like an extra layer of skin. One of his slippers had fallen off and the other had more of an appearance of a clump of mud now rather than a bunny. The dead tree at the top of the hill unfortunately held no mysterious spirit.

Wind buffeting and rain blasting, Goten screamed out to no ears for his companion.

But he received no answer. Just another strip of lightening cracking across the sky and the deafening thunder.

Goten resisted the urge to sink to his knees. He wanted to be brave. And he couldn't stand worrying that something had happened to Ghost. Perhaps Goten had scared him away. Perhaps you weren't supposed to ask friends like Ghost what happened to them before. Maybe he had broken a rule and now Ghost had to leave… forever.

"Please come back, Ghost! I'm sorry!" Goten screamed again.

He didn't await an answer. Instead he continued walking into the surrounding woods. The rain pounded less in the thick of the trees. But it was colder, darker and scarier. He called and called, hoping bleakly that perhaps Ghost was at the end of this dark and terrifying hell.

* * *

**C**hichi was so peaceful when she slept. The thunderstorm rolled in but Chichi never once stirred. Not that Ghost expected her to. She was always this way, completely unmoving. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night because of terrible thunderstorms- crawling into bed with her and never once waking her up.

It was comfort being with her again, as another storm rolled in.

Ghost's head turned at the sound of the screen door slamming. It seemed to have come from the front door.

At first he didn't know what to make of it. Chichi was very much asleep. And they never had anyone breaking into the house this far into the country. Then it dawned on him.

_"Goten,"_ Ghost hissed, rushing through his mother's bedroom door.

When he reached the hallway, Goten wasn't there. His bedroom door was open. Ghost needn't even glance inside to know he wasn't there.

Goten wasn't in the living room either. The front door was open, the screen door exposed and revealing the terror of the storm outside. In the first time in a long time, Ghost was actually quite scared.

He went through the screen door, through the raindrops, and into the horrible night.

* * *

**H**e was lost. It was obvious now, as he stumbled through the thick foliage and brambles hoping to find a footpath or a clearing of any kind. He had been lost in the woods before. But Ghost was with him then. The weather was considerably fairer. This situation was much more terrifying.

Goten flinched as another lightening bolt laced overhead. It didn't take too long for the thunderclap to follow.

His exposed foot was bleeding, scraped raw from the undergrowth. His arms were covered in cuts and his wet clothing was covered in burrs and thorns. Goten felt like a wild child. His hair lay in long messy clumps flat across his face and down his shoulders. He felt miserable and utterly alone.

Goten was starting to wonder if perhaps he was going to die out here. The thought almost comforted him. Perhaps then it wouldn't be so hard to find Ghost- being one himself.

Just when hope seemed so pointless a thing, he made a clumsy tumble into a clearing. Lighting flashed and before him Goten found an awkward stone blocking his path. On the other side of him lay a tiny little house structure turned wild by the woods. Goten recognized it as being a shrine, just like grandpa Gohan's, meaning the stone was a grave.

The shrine appeared abandoned and utterly unkempt, perhaps for many years. But even more curious was that the shrine door was locked shut. Goten didn't even knew shrines were ever locked. Who would ever try to keep out mourners? Who would ever dare to hide someone's memory like that?

Goten took a step closer to the tombstone. There was no name. At first glance, the stone appeared to be just a very straight unusual rock. At a closer examination, it appeared especially cut for the sheer purpose of being a memorial marker. But yet there remained the absence of nameplate or date, as if it had be deliberately forgotten rather than forcefully removed by age or delinquent acts.

No sooner than had Goten stepped away from the stone had a sudden ear-shattering clap of thunder ruptured through the woods. The lightening struck a nearby tree with a bolt that killed it instantly, exploding wood through the air.

Goten, controlled by his panicky instinct, fell backwards. Unfortunately the ground was slick and he slipped down an unseen ditch. The rain had been so hard and thick that Goten had no seen the cliff it was perched upon.

Goten scrambled for a handhold or foothold of any kind, but his hands slipped over everything as if the world was suddenly made of butter. He let out one more scream just before he slid over the edge.

He stopped and swung hangman in thin air. His left arm was strained at the shoulder, holding his entire weight. He winced and threw out his other arm- and Ghost caught it.

_"I got you, Goten!"_

Goten nodded, but couldn't speak. Now both of his shoulder's held the strain of his weight. Ghost was trying to pull him back up, but Goten was slipping through his fingertips. Goten's fingers were slowly sinking through Ghost's imaginary flesh.

Goten made a grab for a better hold, but his hands just slipped through. He screamed as he dropped. Ghost wasted no time. Goten watched as he dropped, Ghost draw back and then jump back after him.

He didn't fly like Trunks. He was much better, faster, and he was covered in an energy that Goten had never seen before. When the lighting crashed again, Goten couldn't see through his friend. When Ghost was beside him, rolling through the air, positioning himself beneath him, tucking Goten protectively into his chest- he was real. Goten could touch his skin, and hear his heart beating. He was more than just visible- for some reason he was alive.

Ghost said nothing and neither did Goten. They just fell softly with the rain. Goten felt them slow down and turn in midair. It wasn't enough to keep them from crashing. Ghost hit first, leaving Goten in a world of tumbling limbs and rolling, spinning, confusing and dizzying pain.

When they came to a stop, Goten felt very tired. In the actual arms of Ghost chased away the bruises, hunger, and leftover fear. All that was left was exhaustion.

"Are you alright, Goten?" Ghost said in his own voice.

"Yeah. Somehow."

"Good. I'm glad."

Goten looked up at his savior, shocked to see the shape he was in. The black hair, the beautiful eyes, and the warm flesh cloaked in the clothes he had never seen in color before. It was all there. But he was far more bruised, his arm was bleeding, both legs looked to be broken. The body was already dying, before Goten could truly know him.

"You're hurt!" Goten gasped.

"Not too much," Ghost smiled through actual lips. "I don't feel a thing."

"But Ghost you-"

"It's not my body. Don't worry."

Ghost reached over and wiped away Goten's coming tears. "And don't cry. I died a long time ago, remember?"

"But you're hurt because of me!"

"No. You're alive- and that's all that matters. I told you, it doesn't hurt at all."

"This is my fault!"

"No. Stop saying that. I did it because I wanted to," Ghost's voice softened at the sudden realization. "Because… I wanted to…"

For some reason the phrase struck a chord inside him somewhere. Had he been wrong the entire time? Did he really not murder anyone?

Goten wrapped his arms around Ghost and pressed his face into his brother's chest. Ghost held him back until the boy fell into unconsciousness. The rain faded and the clouds rolled back for the morning sun. Ghost hung onto his temporary life until the man walked into the clearing.

If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Ghost held tighter to Goten as he approached, his vision slipping in and out of focus. He regretted that his blood was staining Goten's pajamas now.

"Gohan," the man said. Ghost remembered that was his name.

"Vegeta," he responded.

His eyes surveyed the surroundings with quiet calculation. He noticed Goten in Ghost's arms but said nothing.

"You're alive."

"Goten did it," Ghost said, shifting his weight only to wince at the wave of pain that swept down his body. "He's quite remarkable. We were at… my gravesite. Somehow he… managed to… accumulate my remains and… regenerate my body into… its previous state. I died rather unharmed… reanimating me… he's something special."

"He must be a medium… Like that witch. "

"I… don't know. It's something he does… He kept me here."

"I know," said Vegeta rather disinterestedly. "Trunks told me about you… You appeared momentarily at Goten's birthday party… and I've sensed you around even though… you're dead."

Ghost shuttered again.

"I'm guessing you don't have much time."

"I've lost a lot of blood. Goten might have reanimated me, but for some reason I didn't reform completely. I'm surprised I survived the fall at all."

"Remarkable."

"Vegeta could you please… Not tell anyone. Just- once I go… burn my body and get Goten back home."

Vegeta nodded vaguely. "Dying twice. Sure you won't go away this time?"

"I don't think I'm meant to."

Vegeta sighed. Ghost wasn't sure he ever recalled Vegeta sighing.

"There's so many things I'd to ask you. But… I guess it's not meant to be."

"You were right. I killed myself. Is that what you wanted to ask?"

Vegeta paused, slightly thrown off guard. "No. I knew that. Actually I just wanted to know if you'd seen Kakarott yet?"

Ghost cracked a wry smile. "No."

It was getting hard to see now. Ghost wasn't even sure if Vegeta was standing there anymore or if he were just imagining the whole thing. Words washed over him almost without sound.

"If you see him, give him a kick in the balls for me."

"I… I won't see him, Vegeta," Ghost began, his eyelids slowly getting too heavy. "He went to a different place than me… I haven't seen anyone."

"This time you should. This time… for sure…"

To Be Continued…

Please R+R!

* * *

Yeah. I suck and all that fun stuff. I'm a little dissatisfied with the way this worked out. Vegeta might seem a bit random- but I wasn't sure I wanted to go into his perspective to make him less so. 

Just think of it this way, Gohan was in pain- a lot of this conversation might that have even happened. Actually the whole thing might not have happened. I'll let you all decide for yourselves.

Quite honestly this turned out more dark than I had foreseen it. Oh well.

Thanks to all who reviewed. Those that reviewed last chapter were Vixen Angel, Skadu, Crystal Cat-Chan, Samara-chan, rimera, Twixy, Mr. Snuffles, Lady Mirror, …, ipgohanfanatic, and Pink-Charmed-One. Thanks to you all. Your reviews mean a lot to me. And they encourage me to keep going.

Once again- I apologize for the way it turned out. Planning just kind of fell through when it came to explanation. I couldn't just make Gohan's body disappear after all.

Anyway, please review. Your patronage is always appreciated.


	9. Beklagen Sie

**Still Here**

**Disclaimers**: Ho Hum. How should I put this? Dbz, how shall I own thee? Never! Never! Never! Verbal Tear Poetic enough for you? 

I was inspired to write again thanks to an amazing dragon ball z story called **By Any Other Name** written by Deanine. I highly recommend it. It's considerably darker than Still Here- but it's still brilliant and wonderfully executed.

My other inspiration was the latest song by Linkin Park, _What I've Done_. It fit very well with my current idea of Still Here, I couldn't help but want to write more.

Last chapter's title was Spanish for flight. I wonder where I was going with these weird foreign named chapters. :insert shrug: I had an idea back when I first wrote it. But I suppose my plans have changed since then.

German title this time, for those who still care to guess.

LAST TIME ON STILL HERE  
"But that's not fair!"   
"No! No- Not you! Not you too!"  
"This is all your fault!"  
"If you cry, it will make me cry too."  
His hair never moved at all, did it?  
_ "Because, despite whatever illusion you see me as, I… do not… exist!!!"_  
"It doesn't have to be today or tomorrow. I don't even care if it's a bazillion years from now… But I would like to know you, Ghost… The real you- someday."  
_ "I got you, Goten!"_  
"Dying twice. Sure you won't go away this time?"  
"I don't think I'm meant to."

* * *

**Chapter Nine**: Beklagen Sie 

"The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone."  
-Harriet Beecher Stowe

Vegeta lay the body like it were broken glass, willing to slice him open at any moment, onto the pyre he made of the driest wood he could find. His hands were shaking as he struggled to find it in himself to destroy the host body. By cremating this regenerated body he would probably make it physically impossible for Gohan to ever come back again. Could Vegeta truly accept the consequences of that? 

Gohan was burned once. Goten had somehow regenerated him. So what was once more?

One spark of chi ignited before he could have any second thoughts. And once more the demi sayian, the son of his greatest rival- nay, his greatest rival… Gohan went up in flames.

"There you go, Gohan," said Vegeta to the flames. "The wind will probably scatter your ashes all down the mountain side. You won't return again."

If he were expecting an answer, he didn't wait around for one. Instead he drew back and watched the flames from a distance. He didn't dare look directly into them and instead reflected on the flickering shadows.

Goten had resurrected Gohan. The very thought sent chills down his spine. That young boy was dangerous. He had a power even more alien than sayian power.

No, not power. Magic, Vegeta corrected in his mind. The boy had the magic of Shenron, the eternal dragon, who could just as easily resurrect life as snuff it out.

It was a terrible realization.

Just what was Goten in that sense?

And what was Gohan? His spirit was unlike any other Vegeta had previously encountered in his brief death back on Namek. The boy had no halo over his head and no sweep of spiritual essence in his form, seen only to eyes of children and to the concentrated senses of adults. Vegeta had to work hard to notice Gohan hanging around.

Ever since Goten was born, he'd had the sinking feeling that he was being followed by unseen eyes. The faint taint of a chi, like a brief touch of something sour to his taste buds, constantly evaded him. It wasn't until Goten's birthday party that he saw the spirit at last. After that, as long as he was fully aware, Vegeta could catch glimpses in his mind's eye.

But Gohan wasn't a spirit. No. He wasn't anything close to a spirit. He was a ghost.

Had Gohan been grounded and bound to the mysterious allure of his brother? Had that in fact changed what Gohan was too? Or did suicides physically transform spirits into something else? He didn't know. He hadn't ever done so- his pride was too hard to break. But his mother. His mother had committed suicide. So was she wandering around aimlessly like Gohan had, slowly sinking into the own loss of their mind and memories?

Vegeta sucked in a low breath between his rather unwilling lips and let it out explosively. He wished he could expel such weak and impressionable thoughts from his mind. He was becoming ever more human with each day. It was an infection. It seeped into him through the sensuous touches from his mate, the playful giggle of his son's voice, and in his constant apprehension for what was left of his dead race. Why did he continually give a damn?

He tried to wall himself beyond this. But in the quiet behind his eyelids all he could see was Gohan excruciatingly slow and labored breath pushing between his lips a bloodless farewell. Those eyes he had all but forgotten slowly dimming and remaining lidlessly immortal in death.

Quite beyond his consent, Vegeta reached out a hand to let fall the lids once more. His hands touched nothing but air. The start woke him once more from his daydream.

The fire had died down. All traces of Gohan had melted in to deep black ashes. He mustered a handful uncertainly. With the ashes at arms length he approached the cliff's edge. His feet tethered with balance only rivaled by a boy who didn't care if he lived or die.

Vegeta let the ash sift through his fingers like sand. Like sand in an hourglass.

"You'll return," he said to his soiled hands. "I expect you to."

* * *

Consciousness came back in an instant that could be covered by a simple snap of the fingers. His breath shot up from his chest and out of his mouth in one painful gasp. He felt a familiar retching and heaving… and the utter exhaustion that crept like a shadow in the corner of his mind. At first, Goten couldn't remember what had happened. 

He swallowed his insides bitterly and remembered. There was no Ghost at his side nor leafy green forest floor as his bed. His clothes were changed and he lay quietly on his clean sheets- in his bedroom.

His skin still stuck with the stench of the wilderness. Crusty mud hung to his arms and legs. His hair was filthy. So it had happened. But how did he get back here? And where was…

Goten sat up. His room was empty. He leapt down onto his bare feet and winced at the sparks of pain that shot up through his limbs. Gritting his teeth, he limped his way out into the hallway.

The hallway was empty too.

Pain ebbing away into panic, Goten rushed into the living room. Not here either. The kitchen was empty as well. Goten rushed to the screen door just as Chichi made her way out of the bedroom.

"Goten, sweetie?"

"I'll be right back, Mom!"

"Make sure you're not out too long. I'm gonna start breakfast."

"Okay!" Goten shouted back, letting the screen door slam shut behind him. Chichi watched him go with mild curiosity.

"He certainly seems more active today. To think he didn't even react to the mention of food."

Goten was up the hill much faster than the night before. Mud sucked up to his ankles. Hidden sticks and burrs cut into his already pained feet. And still nothing.

Ghost was gone. Ghost was dead.

Goten hit his knees. He tried not to cry but the emotion overwhelmed him. He felt like he was going to be sick all over the grass. His heart raced and the tears blinded him. He couldn't even manage the breath to properly scream.

His fingers sunk into the thick mud. Goten sunk too, lowering his head onto his hands. He grieved without sound.

He hated himself for every heavy sob. He should have been happy- Ghost was finally in heaven where he belonged. How horrible it must have been to live here, always just watching. He should have been happy, but Goten couldn't manage to be happy. All he could feel was that he'd never see Ghost again. And that selfish desire ripped him up inside.

Goten tensed when he felt someone watching him. He was afraid to look, just in case he was wrong.

Finally he lifted his heavy head, and saw. Tears still fell from his eyes, but his voice returned to him.

He said nothing coherently. But it didn't matter. Ghost understood. Ghost understood the half strangled, gut-wrenching sob from his little brother as the boy sloppily threw himself on top of him.

Muddy arms wrapped around his imaginary waist, Ghost weakly rubbed Goten's back. With fake fingers- fake palms.

Ghost sank to his knees, and pulled his brother fully into his embrace. He held onto the only thing left he had.

Goten started to laugh. It was weak at first but the laugh grew in strength. Goten squeezed Gohan tighter and laughed harder and happier than Ghost had ever heard him laugh. It was out of relief and out of pure joy. He still had his Ghost. He was here. He wasn't going to leave.

Ghost couldn't help but join in. After all, he didn't quite remember what he had forgotten. Being here was all he knew.

Ghost hefted the boy up and swung him around for good measure. Goten only laughed harder. It was the best sound in the world. Ghost felt it fill him and allowed himself to be happy too.

They were still together- and they weren't ever going to let anything tear them apart. Immortal, and completely unsevered by death- that's what they were.

"I thought you left," Goten breathed.  
_  
"Where would I go?" _

"Why to heaven, silly. Isn't that where everyone goes?"

Ghost looked nonplussed for a moment. _"No. Not everyone."_

"Where do the others go?" _  
_

_"I don't remember,"_ Ghost smiled. "_But it doesn't matter. Because I'm supposed to stay with you. Remember? We made a promise." _

And Goten hugged him again happily in response. There were no words needed. 

Goten broke away from Ghost at the sense of an approaching entity. Ghost sensed him while Goten could see him wavering uncertainly in the sky.

Goten only just made it out to greet the young boy as he touched down and collapsed into Goten's arms.

"Trunks! Hey, are you alright?" said Goten shaking his friend gently.

Trunks smiled, drenched in sweat, and managed to nod. He was still breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath somehow. Unable to speak, he pulled Goten into an awkward one armed hug.

"S-sorry," he gasped hoarsely. "I- I'm n-oot mad…"

_ "Good gawd, Trunks,"_ said Ghost with certain astonishment, eyes cast skyward at the horizon. _"Did you fly all the way here?"_

"M-my dad sa-said you were mad at me… c-cause I was mad… and I-I wanted to let you know… I'm not mad." He smiled breathlessly. 

"I wasn't mad, Trunks. I'm just glad you weren't mad!" Goten exclaimed hugging the boy perhaps a bit too tightly.

Both boys tumbled backwards into the grass laughing. Goten rolled off Trunks and lay on his back beside his friend. He playfully held his nose with his index and thumb saying, "Gah. You smell like sweat."

"What do you expect? Flying isn't easy, you know?"

Trunks sat up and cast a weary glance around them. "That reminds me," he said. "I should apologize to Ghost too."

Goten sat up suddenly at that. Ghost was directly at his side, looking just as taken aback.

Trunks turned to Goten and smiled. "So where is he?"

Ghost inhaled sharply but only Goten heard it.

"Goten, hey," began Trunks. "Why are you crying? Goten?"

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please R + R!

I had to upload the chapter in a special way, lj user **mercuryblue144 **for the tip. The site was giving me several problems in the document manager. But I got it working now.

Considerably shorter than my typical update. I apologize for that. I had a different plan for this chapter, but it didn't quite work out the way I wanted it to. The change of plans made it smaller.

The next chapter will be the changing point. After that- it all goes to hell. Enjoy:insert evil laughter: 

I'd like to thank all those have reviewed thus far: bluedranzer77, link2143, Twin Tails Speed, supersaiyaman, Purple-Fairy93, lpgohanfanatic, Lina-chan13, Skadu, …, and -0-HA-0-. I appreciate every and all feedback I receive. Thanks to you who are still hanging around and waiting for me to finish. I promise I will someday. It just might take me some time. I haven't even gotten to the big turning point yet- but that's next chapter after all.

If you've read, please review. I'd love to hear what you thought. 


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